The Shadow of Erebus
by CarnivorousBookworm25
Summary: For more than a century, the two children of the gods have been kept apart. Now the greatest foes the gods have ever faced, again walk the Earth. Prophecy calls for the seven greatest heroes to defend Olympus. Now, both camps must come together to stand against their common foe. Two prophecies have begun to converge, bringing the rivals together once more. (Mark of Athena Timeline)
1. Prologue

Just a heads up for those that have already read my version of Riordan's "The Son of Neptune"...there will be a few minor tweaks in this new story. I have finally decided on a name for the Roman camp...the "Hadrian Military Academy". Also, going from this point forward I will be referring to the Roman demigods as "Cadets" as opposed to "Campers". And for those reading either of my two stories for the first time...this is the sequel of the aforementioned SoN story I wrote last year. To fully understand the characters and story you will need to go back and read the first story (please bear with me on my earliest chapters...my grammar and writing will improve over the duration of the story).

And lastly, as is required, this is a work of fiction based off the best-selling series by Rick Riordan "Percy Jackson and the Olympians", as well as second series "The Heroes of Olympus". I do not own the rights to any of these characters. They are the sole property of their creating author Rick Riordan.

* * *

Prologue

The sound of old hinges swinging inward, drowned out the noise Annabeth made while quickly scribbling down the name and phone number she had just managed to track down. Pausing, only to briefly lift her eyes, Annabeth watched as her friend Piper McLean slipped inside the Big House's cozy little office. The way the daughter of Aphrodite, dressed in her usual orange t-shirt, faded jeans and hiking boots, carried herself combined with the irritation shining out from behind her eyes, forced Annabeth to glance downward.

The computer's clock display read forty-five minutes past nine in the morning.

Annabeth quickly closed her eyes and inwardly sighed, _"The knife lesson…"_

Piper, hyper observant as usual, recognized the chastened look suffusing Annabeth's expression, and grinned.

"You're late," commented Piper. "Again."

Annabeth, opening her eyes, nodded, "Sorry, Piper."

"So what brought about this latest bout of forgetfulness?"

A slight grin crept up one corner of Annabeth's mouth as she beckoned Piper forward, "Take a look at this."

The curious young woman skirted the desk to stand next to the seated daughter of Athena. On the screen was a Spanish news site.

Piper squinted her eyes and mumbled aloud the unfamiliar words.

**La Prensa**

"**Autoridades Suspender Busqueda de Tres Adolescentes Desaparecidos" **

Without taking her eyes off the screen, Puper asked, "What am I looking at exactly?"

Annabeth blinked, "Oh. Sorry."

The anxious daughter of Athena rapidly entered a command, and the words were instantly translated into English.

"There," said Annabeth. "Does that help?"

She watched as Piper, whom unlike most demigods, effortlessly read over the now transformed headline.

"Authorities suspend search for three missing teens," Piper paused, and glanced over at her.

"Keep reading," encouraged, the anxious daughter of Athena.

"The investigation into the disappearance of the three American teenagers…Peter Johnson, Rita Barrows, and Jen Hastings, has been called off after nearly two months. The three teens disappeared while the Parcae, the cruise ship they were traveling aboard, was again being examined following its encounter with a mysterious quick-developing thunderstorm in the Eastern-Pacific. The three teenagers' vanishing also coincides with the disappearance of a local PCA agent, Brencis Boden. As of now the search for Mr. Boden is still ongoing. He is currently a suspect in both a number of other disappearances and the fire bombing of a local dock…" Piper stopped and sighed, "Annabeth."

Annabeth hesitated. She had seen that strained, almost pitying, look on her friends' faces before, and each time the expression had proven well founded. The small reminder of her past failures was enough to force her to avert her gaze. Methodically, the mentally taxed daughter of Athena, glanced out at the bronze plated walls of Chiron's office. Her vision would then glided over Chiron's framed Party Pony t-shirts, followed closely by his collection of cassette tapes resting alongside her friend's old boom-box, and lastly she scanned the plethora of snapshots the old centaur had taken over the decades.

Naturally her tired eyes would always settle on the photo of Percy and herself, locked arm-in-arm. In fact it was that very image that had set her search on its present course. Every time she saw that glossy caption, Annabeth couldn't help but remember all of the experiences the two of them had shared since his arrival to Camp Half-Blood, nearly five years ago.

Unconsciously the daughter of Athena fumbled over the clay beads that represented the years since that day.

First, was the Trident and the quest for the Masterbolt. Second, came saving Grover and the recovery of the Golden Fleece. Annabeth, like always, suppressed a shiver while recalling the third year and being trapped between the Earth and the Sky, by her old friend Luke. Continuing on, the mental highlight reel churned out images of Percy's fourth year at camp. It was an especially difficult chain of events to relive because it was the first time Percy had gone missing. Before that span of time she had never stopped to realize how close she and Seaweed-Brain had become.

Suddenly a combination of anger and jealously raced across Annabeth's conscious mind, _"Percy, you had better not be living it up with Calypso on Ogygia again."_

Piper, standing patiently, shifted her weight from one foot to the other. The slight movement was enough to draw Annabeth out of her inner stroll down memory lane.

Her thoughts now back to the here and now, the daughter of Athena, for the umpteenth time, began to explain her thought process.

"So," started Annabeth. "Given Percy's track-record there's a good chance that if Hera had indeed placed him in Jason's camp; it wouldn't be long before some major act of destruction made world news…"

"Yes," admitted Piper, "but this sounds a lot like an article you looked into last month."

"It is," agreed Annabeth. "This is actually a follow-up article, but there is a major difference."

Piper raised her right eyebrow, "And what's that?"

"They finally released the name of the ship, and that's what I've been doing for most of the last hour. I've been running down the travel agency used to book the missing kids' tickets."

Piper, still skeptical but also exuding a measure of enthusiasm, asked, "So did you find anything?"

Annabeth, instead of answering, handed Piper the notepad she had been writing on when the daughter of Aphrodite first walked in the door.

"Who's...John Marco," questioned Piper. "And why do you have his phone number?"

"He's the park ranger that purchased Percy's ticket."

More than a little impressed Piper pressed, "How did you get it?"

Grinning proudly, Annabeth answered, "I've been randomly calling San Francisco travelagencies and pretending to be a close cousin of _Peter Johnson_."

Piper just stared at her, disbelief evident.

"You'd be surprised what people are willing to do or say in order to get a sobbing, grief stricken, teenage girl off the phone," said Annabeth, coyly.

"Well then," began Piper "it sounds like you could use a charm-speaker."

Now, Annabeth was the skeptical one, "You can do that over the phone?"

Piper smiled, "Only one way to find out; besides it seems my knife instructor is a bit too preoccupied to teach me today."

The two girls shared a moment of quiet understanding, before Piper handed the notepad back to Annabeth.

Picking up the office's phone, Annabeth dialed Ranger Marco's number. After a few short rings, a young man's voice rang out from the speaker.

"Hello?"

Rather than respond, Annabeth stopped to consider her options. All her instincts screamed that she had finally found what she was looking for. That on the other end of the line was a man that could lead her to Percy. Now all she had to do was ask, but the question was how.

"Hello," repeated the man, presumably John.

Annabeth's impatience made the decision for her, "I need to speak to Percy Jackson."

John's reply was a long time in coming, "I'm sorry, Miss..."

Before Annabeth could reply; Mitchell, one of Piper's half-brothers, burst into the room shouting, "Piper, Here you are! Come quick!" He took a deep gasp of air before continuing, "It's Jason!"

Naturally, and without stopping to consider the voice on the other end of the phone line, the two girls sprinted out of the door.

With the receiver dangling and spinning just above the floor, John called out, "Who are you? What's going on? Where's Jason Grace?"

* * *

Gwen, her godly senses rousing her ahead of the coming dawn, stretched while lying beneath her covers. A huge smile spread across her lips as she thought about the previous night's events.

It had been just another evening meal following an intense training session, at least until she, or Hazel rather, had finally maneuvered Percy into asking her out for her birthday next week.

Of course she hadn't liked her mischievous friend's suggestion, and had repeatedly refused to go along with it. But in spite of the number of unofficial dates the two of them had gone on over the last two months, a wall of apprehension always seemed to stand between them. So reluctantly, she had finally consented to her friend's suggestion, hoping that the act of directly asking her out would do something to finally bring down the invisible barrier.

The plan was simple, Gwen thought, as she remembered the coversation:

"_Hazel, we've discussed this already. I don't want to coerce him."_

Of course Hazel had instantly responded by saying, _"It's not coercion. All I want to do is privately remind him of your upcoming birthday, and how much you would like to spend New Years touring San Francisco together." _Hazel had smiled then, _"And afterwards, if Percy decides to finally grow a spine and ask you out…so be it."_

The daughter of Apollo had hesitated then. Hazel was making sense; although she didn't like the fact her friend had so openly mocked Percy's courage.

Seeing her uncertainty Hazel, ever the aggressor, pushed forward, _"Look Gwen, I'm not just going to sit back and watch the two of you mope around again."_

She had closed her eyes then; recalling the day Hazel was alluding too.

"_Remembering Valentine's Day?"_ queried the sandy-haired daughter of Ceres.

That questioned had elicited a glare from her, and Hazel drew back on the reigns, slightly.

"_Look I get it, really I do,"_ her friend assured._ "And if you don't want me to say anything…I won't."_

"_I know you wouldn't,"_ Gwen had replied.

"_So," _urged Hazel. _"Will you allow me to do the two of you this little favor?"_

That simple question had stopped her cold. The two of them quietly stood on the forested path back from the archery range, as their trainees slowly filed passed, both waiting for her answer. The gentle sound of trees swaying beneath the wind and the chill fresh scent of the early spring air steadied Gwen while her heart waged war with itself.

A newly arrived presence suddenly intruded upon her thoughts.

From one corner of her cozy little room an increasingly familiar voice echoed softly, "Gwendolyn? Sweetheart, are you awake?"

Gwen hid her smile. Her Dad had made it a habit recently to drop by before going to work. Even more surprising, he had become increasingly polite. Always making sure that he asked if she was awake, and giving her time to acclimate to his unexpected arrivals.

Slowly sitting up and affecting a scowl, Gwen asked, "What are you doing here? And why are you wearing _armor_?"

Apollo, wearing a resplendent set of golden catafracta mail complete with matching greaves, stood with a quiver full of enchanted arrows strung over his shoulders. In his right hand he held a mighty golden longbow, and tucked beneath his left arm was an older style cassis, also made of gold. Though impressive, Gwen's inborn conservative nature blanched at the garish sight.

Apollo's normally brilliant smile was obviously strained, and his reply wasn't immediate.

"Jupiter's orders," the sun god replied.

Gwen crossed her arms and pressed, "The visit, or the armor?"

Apollo leaned back against the wall and sighed, visibly releasing some pent up anxiety. Propping up his bow, her Father, his hand now free, reached up and removed his sunglasses.

"Both actually." Closing his eyes, Apollo sighed one more time and added, "He wanted me to tell you…'It's time'. The prophecy you received during your run in with Cassandra shall soon come to pass, and you are the only one that can stop it."

Gwen's brow shot up, "Why me?"

"Because you're the only one that can find the Fountain's source…the only one that can lead this quest."

Gwen tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear whispered, "The Fountain's source? But that means traveling to the Underworld."

Apollo grimaced, "I know."

"How am I supposed to…"

"Talk to Percy," interrupted the sun god. "I'm sure he can recommend a useful means of travel."

Gwen, not trusting her own voice, just nodded.

"Also you'll need the weapon of Hercules to complete this mission."

"The weapon of…Hercules," stammered Gwen. "Can you be a bit more...specific?"

Apollo shook his head, "I'm sorry, Gwendolyn, but I can't."

Anger, born mostly of fear, forced Gwen to demand, "Can't or won't?"

Apollo looked away, "I've been warned, Gwen. I broke the rules once already. If Jupiter catches me a second time I will, for the remainder of this war at least, be cast into Erebus. Then I wouldn't be able to help anyone."

"That's not fair," cried Gwen.

Apollo turned to her, this time truly smiling, "Maybe, but it doesn't the change the fact that Jupiter can't afford to risk any further insubordination." Her father picked up his bow and walked over and sat upon the bed, "The stakes are simply to high, Gwen."

A tear rolled down her cheek as her father's voice spoke, for the first, her preferred name, "I understand."

Apollo leaned over, and kissed her on the forehead, "That's my girl." He gave her shoulder a little squeeze, "You can do this. I know you can."

At that moment a wolf's howl erupted, instantaneously dispelling the predawn calm of the Academy. An emergency officer's meeting had just been called, and there would be no allowance for tardiness, not for this type of meeting.

"I've got to go," spoke Gwen.

Apollo nodded, "Of course; me too."

Gwen, her Father rising, said, "Dad, be careful."

He just smiled in response, before adding, another bit of advice, "And Gwen."

"Yes?"

"Under no circumstances is Percy allowed on this quest. He's the Academy's Praetor now, and he needs to start acting the part."

"He's not going to like that."

Apollo just shook his head, "That's Percy, alright, but it doesn't change the facts of the situation."

At that moment dawn crept over the horizon, and her Father vanished.

Before rising to get dressed, Gwen sent up a silent prayer to her father, _"Stay safe._"

And in the quiet of the now lonely bedroom two soft words drifted through the still air, "You too."

* * *

Reviews and PMs are always welcome.


	2. Ch 1 Annabeth

Chapter 1

**Annabeth**

All thoughts of finding Percy fled her conscious mind as Annabeth dashed through the doorway. Angling hard to the left, the daughter of Athena could hear Mr. D's pet leopard, Seymour, growling while Mitchell and Piper sprinted through the Big House anteroom. Silently, she cursed the seated position that had slowed her rush towards whatever trouble had befallen Jason Grace.

She blew through the vine-covered seating area, pushing herself to the limit to catch up to the other two demigods and eliciting a second bout of grumbling from the stuffed leopard head.

From ahead Annabeth heard Piper shout, "What happened?"

The daughter of Athena burst through the screen door just in time to see Mitchell shaking his head. The young man was obviously exhausted from his earlier sprint and wasn't able to do more than gulp down large amounts of air.

Reaching the worn dirt path that led up too and wrapped around the four story baby-blue farmhouse, Annabeth began to gain on the two children of the love goddess. The daughter of Athena pulled up alongside Piper just as the path veered parallel to the fields of freshly planted strawberries.

As they made their way toward the center of camp, and its ever increasing number of cabins, Annabeth was impressed to see how far Piper had come in only a few short months. When the young woman first arrived to camp. She was already fit, no doubt a result of her vegetarian diet, but the camp's training program had transformed the girl's naturally slim form into a graceful athletic build more suitable to the hardships her half-god nature would naturally force upon her.

Now instead of panting spasmodically, Piper drew in slow even breaths, and despite the growing sense of panic catching fire behind her friend's eyes, Annabeth could tell Piper wasn't over exerting herself. They were hurrying to be sure, but when they finally arrived at their destination, should the need arise, Piper would be fully capable of using her charm-speak.

Annabeth mentally chastised herself while she slowed her own ragged breathing, _"Just one more thing I forgot to consider."_

She had begun to recognize the potential for trouble weeks ago. Jason's personality had gradually began to change. He was becoming short, distant, and demanding. Now, he would spend almost every free moment either training himself or scrutinizing, what he would call, the camp's_ haphazard _layout.

And then came the suggestions. At first, Jason _politely _suggested that the senior counselors _beef-up _their cabins' training menu; however after everyone, except Clarisse, just as politely, refused…the determined descendant of Rome went to Chiron. Surprisingly her old friend had actually agreed to, temporarily, allow Jason to implement and conduct his more strenuous morning regiment.

Mitchell stumbled, and fell to the ground. The two girls quickly moved to help him up, but the determined young man waved them back. He crawled over to the eternal pyre, set in the middle of the cabins' square. Mitchell rolled off of his knees and sat back against the marble structure, panting heavily.

Concerned for her younger half-brother, Piper asked, "Are you alright?"

Mitchell glared. "Of course not," barked the son of Aphrodite, between pants. "Just look at my clothes," he waved his hands over his khaki pants and loafers, "these grass stains will never come out, and look at my shoes. I know they're only Frye's, but it'll take me half the day to buff out those scuff marks."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. She wanted to lecture the kid about running in said footwear, but she knew that would only start an argument and cost them time.

So instead she pointed out, "At least your polo shirt survived the fall unscathed."

Mitchell craned his neck, surveying the pristine white fabric.

"Thank the gods, there's that at least," he said with a relieved sigh.

Seeing her brother was fine; Piper began looking around anxiously, "Annabeth…does something seem _off _to you?"

Prying her glaring eyes away from the downed Mitchell, Annabeth glanced around, "Where is everyone?"

Everywhere she looked the camp was eerily empty. Cabin doors stood ajar. The dining pavilion was vacant. A lonely basketball, blown by a slight breeze, rolled off the court and into the grass. The daughter of Athena stepped away, looking for a better vantage to peer between the assembled cabins. Down by the lake a half dozen canoes appeared hastily beached, their oars strewn across the shore.

"_What's going on?"_ she thought.

She wasn't surprised by cabins Four and Nines apparent emptiness. Both hers and Leo's cabins had been spending most of their time at Bunker Nine working tirelessly to finish the Argo II. Cabin Seven and the children of Apollo were usually practicing their archery before lunch. That's probably where Chiron was too. Cabin Eleven was scheduled for one of Jason's hard marches; however that should have ended almost thirty minutes ago. That just left the other demigods which should have been scattered all over the place.

"The chariot stadium," answered Mitchell, rising. "All Tartarus has…"

A sound like thunder boomed, drowning out the last of Mitchell's words.

Together the three of them turned to the aforementioned stadium. Now that her ears were pointed in the right direction, Annabeth could just hear the tell-tell noises of battle. Without another word Piper took off, followed immediately by Annabeth, and this time Mitchell was the one to bring up the rear.

* * *

Emerging from the tunnel leading to the sand-lined stadium floor, Annabeth became a witness to madness. Before her was a scene torn from the pages of Roman history. More than one-hundred demigods sat in the stands of the stadium cheering on roughly eighty demigods, turned gladiators. To the untrained eye the scene before her looked like nothing more than a battle royale, but in fact at the heart of the melee were two distinct sides. Through a narrow gap, the daughter of Athena could see Jason Grace, leading Clarisse and the Ares cabin, against Trevor and Connor Stoll and the Hermes cabin. While the rest of the combatants seemed to be waylaying one another for no discernible reason.

"_The clap of thunder must have been, Jason."_

Standing next to her Piper, speaking mostly to herself, said aloud, "How did this…" she paused, "Annabeth how are we supposed to stop..._this_?"

Turning her thoughts inward, the daughter of Athena considered the question. Piper's charm-speak was the most obvious solution, but Annabeth doubted even Piper's well developed lungs could raise her enchanted voice above the den of battle. What they needed was a way to increase the volume. She glanced up at the VIP box.

"_If it's there," _thought Annabeth, looking back at Piper, _"would it work?"_

The daughter of Aphrodite noticed Annabeth staring, "You've got an idea?"

She nodded, "Tantalus used to keep a loud-speaker in the press box. If it's there you might be able to use it to amplify your voice and stop this craziness."

"It's worth a try," agreed Piper. "But who's Tantalus?"

Annabeth ignored the question, and that's when Mitchell chimed in.

"What can I do?"

The two girls looked back. Annabeth gave the winded son of Aphrodite a once over. Without a weapon or any kind of combat experience he was next to useless here, and from talks she had had with Piper the young man, like most of the love goddesses children, didn't have a talent with words.

"_That's probably why he came looking for Piper in the first place."_

That left one reasonable option, "Go find Chiron," she ordered. "He's probably near the archery range with the Apollo kids."

Mitchell gave a quick nod and started back down the tunnel.

"Mitchell, move quickly," shouted Annabeth.

He turned and stared at her, seemingly insulted.

"And if you can't find Chiron, go find Argus. He should be feeding Peleus."

Another quick nod, then he took off.

"What are you going to do?" asked Piper.

Annabeth drew her knife. "I'm going to try and get to Jason, Trevor, or Connor. I don't know what sparked this, but those three and Clarisse are the ones that have the best chance of ending it, should the megaphone not work."

Piper's forehead furrowed. Annabeth watched as Piper's eyes moved from the blade up to the spot Jason had been standing when they saw him a moment ago. Annabeth recognized that worried expression. She seemed to be wearing the same one every time she looked at herself in the mirror.

The two friends exchanged one last look of understanding then separated, each moving toward their appointed goals.

* * *

Annabeth rushed headlong into the fray. The daughter of Athena, her battlefield reflexes enhanced by the unflappable calm that made her mother such a fierce warrior, moved like a phantom, deftly weaving her way amongst and through the individual skirmishes dotting the arena floor. It was an ability similar to Percy's Styx enhanced swordplay, but one that she could only direct towards a single, consciously chosen, purpose. In this case evasion. If she was suddenly forced to switch from evasion to offense; her mind would crash and she would wake up sometime later with a massive headache.

The smell of trampled earth, sweat, and hot metal filled her nose. The nerves of her skin registered the slightest fluctuations of the air. Her ears broke down the sound of each weapon as it collided with another, and her eyes scanned the entire scene taking in the most minute of details. With all the raw data received, processed, and wired directly to her instincts Annabeth dodged every errant swipe of a sword, thrust of a spear, and swing of a fist with minimal effort. The only time she paused was to move a downed camper out of harms way.

Approaching the center of the fighting Annabeth could see the son of Jupiter, flanked by a couple of Ares kids, still standing opposite the two senior counselors from Cabin Eleven, Trevor and Connor Stoll along with half-dozen children of Hermes. How the two pranksters were still actively fighting a warrior of Jason's caliber she didn't know, but standing they were, and pushing forward.

As she watched one of the Stoll twins brandished a silver arrow, obviously pilfered from some Apollo kid's quiver, and hurled it at the feet of the nearest Ares kid. The tip exploded, releasing a cloud of smoke or gas, she couldn't tell which, while the rest of their group rushed the other kid standing to Jason's right. Overwhelmed by numbers the kid, Mike Annabeth recalled, was knocked to ground, but not before his sword splintered a shield, breaking one of his attackers' arms.

That's when things began to get really dangerous. The former Praetor was backed into a corner, her heightened senses could feel the electricity beginning to circle the Roman demigod. Now that she was thinking about it, why had things gone this far? Jason was a child of the Big Three, if he was so inclined he should be able to blast a crater in the arena floor large enough to bury a Volkswagen Beetle. So why was he only now getting ready to redo the earlier lightshow?

A mechanical centaur figurine galloped by firing arrows randomly. The novelty of the sight nearly prevented the daughter of Athena from sensing the oncoming threat. Annabeth dropped to the ground and immediately rolled to her right. The mystery surrounding Jason and the little automaton would have to wait as Clarisse stalked forward brandishing her electric spear.

Rising to her feet and lifting her knife into a defensive position, Annabeth bellowed, "Clarisse, what in the name of Olympus…"

"Stow it Wise-girl," rebuffed the enraged daughter of Ares, "I'll not have you interfering. It's high time those thieving brothers learned their place!"

Clarisse dashed forward and delivered a quick thrust with Maimer. Annabeth, her mind still dedicated solely to dodging, side-stepped before pirouetting away from the larger girl. She tried to use her fancy footwork to move closer to the son of Jupiter, but the experienced and savvy war-god's daughter moved with her.

Clarisse shifted her grip from right to left, lifting the shaft upward in the process, before sliding back to the left and bringing the tip downward in a slicing action. Annabeth, analyzing all of this, planted her right foot, halting her on motion, just before the spear impaled the ground.

Clarisse roared, "You're not getting away!"

"Clarisse, you _pigheaded_…" Annabeth stopped herself, "we need to put an end to this!"

The daughter of Ares assumed another thrusting posture, "Oh, we will. Once Grace really gets going he and I will…"

Piper's voice boomed, "Stop!" The entire assemblage instantly obeyed. "Everyone lay down your weapons now!" Annabeth, Clarisse, and everyone, including the spectators, dropped any and all weapons they were carrying, creating a earsplitting melody of clattering metal and thumping wood.

From the opposite end of the stadium another voice rose, "Yes, I believe that will be quite enough."

Everyone turned.

"Thank you, Miss McLean, but I will take it from here," spoke Chiron, with Mitchell on his back.

As he rode toward where she stood, Annabeth couldn't help but notice the old centaur was the only person still carrying his weapon. Appearantly Chiron was capable of resisting Piper's charming voice.

"Now will someone mind telling me why my entire camp is out here trying to kill one another?" demanded the scraggily-bearded old teacher.

Though the question was directed toward everyone, Annabeth knew her old friend was waiting for her to explain what had happened. Although she didn't know the exact details her mind had already formed a reasonable conclusion.

One of the Stoll twins stepped forward.

"He started it!" accused Trevor or Connor, pointing toward Jason.

"If by starting, you mean giving you orders to form ranks," responded the son of Jupiter. "Then yes I did."

"You see, Chiron," sounded the second twin limping up to stand beside his brother. "He admits it."

Clarisse rebuffed, "Shut up, Stoll. If you and your brother had just done what you were told…"

"What we were told?" shouted the bothers in unison. "Since when do we have to do anything you or the Roman tells us?"

Clarisse picked up her spear, and a circle instantly began to form around the five of them, "You're really asking for it…"

Chiron fumed, "Blast it Clarisse, I said enough."

"But Chiron," began the daughter of Ares, before the old centaur's glare shut her up.

"How about we make this simple," suggested Chiron. "Let's start with this order Jason gave, and if anyone so much as raises their voice…I promise you that he or _she_," emphasized the Camp Counselor, looking at Clarisse, "will be spending the next month cleaning the pegasus stables using only their bare hands."

Faced with a threat of such magnitude everyone, Annabeth included, took half a step backwards. She had never seen her old friend so angry.

"I see we have an understanding," voiced Chiron. "Now Jason, if you would be so kind…the order?"

The son of Jupiter squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and spoke calmly, "After I and the members of Cabin Eleven completed this mornings march, I asked them to follow me to the stadium, telling them I had a surprise waiting."

Behind her Annabeth heard some angry kid mumble, "Surprise he says."

Jason continued, not having heard the comment, "Yesterday I asked Clarisse and the members of Mar…Ares Cabin to assemble here in preparation for a mock battle. I thought it would be a good experience for the Hermes Cabin to face a fresh and prepared force while they were exhausted from this morning's training."

"_No wonder the Hermes Cabin refused,"_ thought Annabeth.

There's no way she would have consented to something like that…at least not without prior notice and maybe some charm-speak on top of that. No Senior Counselor would. Especially, not if the opponent was Cabin Four. Clarisse and her siblings weren't exactly known for playing nice when they sensed weakness. Of course, that really raised the question…

"_After the fight started," _wondered the daughter of Athena._ "How did Trevor, Connor, and a bunch of tired Hermes kids manage to hold their own against Jason, Clarisse, and the entire Ares Cabin?"_

Chiron covered his face with his right hand and said aloud, "I should have known this would happen."

"Sir," asked Jason.

Chiron shook his head, "Never mind. Jason you and I are going to talk about this. As for the rest of you." Chiron looked at everyone else, "You will return to your cabins until the conch horn sounds for lunch. Afterwards, the Senior Counselors and I will meet to discuss the consequences of today's little outburst."

A collective, "Awww," issued forth from the gathered campers.

For the first time since Mitchell burst into the office Annabeth thought about Percy.

Once more impatient to follow her lead she implored, "But Chiron, I need to…"

He cut her off, "Annabeth please, do as I ask. Whatever it is you are going to request…I'm sure it can wait for the next few hours."

She looked down, before another thought popped into her head, "What about everyone that's injured?"

"I have already dispatched Cabin Seven to the Big House," explained the old centaur. "They will be ready to receive any that have been hurt during the course of this foolishness. In the meantime," he said a little more loudly, "the rest of you will do as I say, or it's the stables for the next month."

Upon hearing that, no one felt the need to stick around. They all started filing out in mass, headed for either their bunks or the Big House.

By that point Piper had made her way back down to the stadium floor, and was moving toward Jason.

"Ah, Miss McLean," said Chiron in his more casual tone. "Thank you again for the assistance." The centaur paused, looking as though he was only just remembering something he forgot, "And thank you Annabeth. Now that things are calming down I recall Mitchell telling me it was your quick thinking that led Piper to use Tantalus's old megaphone."

Piper gave Chiron a quick nod before turning her glare on Jason, "Mind telling me what you were doing starting a _second _war before we've finished fighting the _first _one?"

"Piper…I," Jason rubbed his face, looking very confused in the process.

"I'm afraid, Piper, that will have to wait until after Jason and I have had a long overdue chat. If you would Mr. Grace, please head to the sword's grounds. You are already long overdue for our regular private lesson." said Chiron.

Jason looked both dejected and sorry when he said, just before walking away, "I'm sorry, Piper."

Annabeth tried to read Piper's expression, but couldn't discern anything beyond the expected worry. She wasn't the first person to be interested a guy that could turn the entire camp on its ear. Although, at the time Annabeth hadn't been aware of how she would come to think of Percy, but Piper was saddled with a different animal altogether. Jason came from a different world, and despite Hera returning his memories, he would often describe what he remembered as if he were viewing the sum of his life through eyes other than his own.

"Now, Mitchell if you would don't mind."

The son of Aphrodite's face grew red with embarrassment, before he climbed off the centaur's back, "Sorry, Chiron."

"Think nothing of it," assured the old teacher. "But Mitchell, next time you witness the beginnings of a civil war…please come and find me before you run around looking for Piper and alerting the entire camp."

The young man, abashed, looked down, "Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now Annabeth...Piper," added Chiron, looking back and forth between the two of them, before glancing toward the last few stragglers making their way up the stadium tunnel. "Please see to it that everyone does as instructed."

It took a second before Annabeth understood, "So we're not going back to our cabins. Are we?"

Chiron flashed a weary smile, "No. I'm afraid a dust-up like this tends to revive _old_ rivalries and reopens far more _recent_ wounds. I doubt it will be long before someone is angry enough or _bold_ enough to disregard my warning. When that happens I would like the two of you there to intervene."

They nodded.

"Excellent, now if the two of you would excuse me," said Chiron making his exit.

Piper watched Jason's back disappear while asking, "What do you think's happening to him?"

With anyone else the daughter of Athena would have tried to sound strong and reassuring, but Piper had a way of reading people that could only be described as preternatural.

"I'm not sure," replied Annabeth. "But I'm sure we'll find out soon enough." She smiled, "Come on, Chiron's probably right. It's only a matter of time before the camp tries to tear itself apart again."

Piper nodded, "Alright."

Annabeth turned to Mitchell, "So how is it you knew what was going on before anyone else?"

He smiled sheepishly, "I was kind of following Drew."

"Following Drew?" questioned Piper.

Mitchell shrugged his shoulders, "Yeah."

"Why?" asked Annabeth.

"She was sort of following Jason and carrying a suspicious looking canteen."

It took Piper less than a second to form a theory, "I'm going to kill her."

Annabeth, really wanted to get back to Chiron's office, but she didn't hesitate, "Mind if I help?"

Piper grinned wolfishly, and then the two started walking away, an evil gleam in their eyes.

From behind, Mitchell shouted, "But aren't we supposed to _stop _the killing?"


	3. Ch 2 Jason

Chapter 2

**Jason**

Jason's walk to the sword arena went quickly. The circular sand-lined pit, marked by aged logs placed end-to-end, was a familiar and comforting sight. The line of straw practice dummies looked identical to the ones employed back at the academy, save for the lack of armor. The two pieces of perpendicular wood overlaid with a sack-cloth stuffed figure, roughly the size of a man, stood anywhere between four feet and six feet off the ground. The line of fifteen figures began on the left with the shortest and moved to the right ending with the tallest. They were grouped together by threes, increasing in height by half a foot from one grouping to the next.

The son of Jupiter paused. The short walk had done little to temper the torrent of emotion roiling just below the surface of his skin. The confounding mix of duty, anger, frustration, and regret sent his godling powers into overload, and he needed to calm them before beginning any exercise.

Jason sat down, crossing his leg and closing his eyes, before he began the slow process of steadying his mind. He first focused on the warmth suffusing his skin from the morning sun. The sun was the source of light and life, and anyone who has spent time beneath it knows of its comforting embrace. He tracked the sensation beginning from his hands and forearms, upward and beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt, and across his shoulders. There it converged with heat radiating across his exposed face, before finally moving downward through his chest, finally settling over his heart.

The maelstrom quelled, slightly.

Next he focused on his breathing. He took deep methodical breaths, inhaling through his nose, exhaling through his mouth. To look at him, some might think the air was calming him, but that wasn't the whole truth. Jason was actually listening to the sound the oxygen created as it entered and exited his lungs. That gentle but strong repetition of noise acted like the soothing roar of the ocean on a calm day. It was an illusion further strengthened by the salty smell of the nearby sea mingled with the still damp sand of the arena floor.

After several heartbeats more, the inborn storm quieted further.

Opening his eyes, the child of Rome stared down at the outstretched fingers of his right hand. The involuntary electrical discharge which began in the shadow of the stadium's outer walls seemed to have ceased.

Jason's stiff shoulders relaxed. Now he could begin swords practice without worrying about setting the mannequins ablaze with an errant bolt of lightning.

The adolescent demigod heaved himself up and began stalking toward the three tallest practice dummies. There still existed a great deal of pent-up frustration running throughout the muscles of his body, and a long strenuous session of practice thrusts, parries, and follow-throughs would do wonders to alleviate the problem.

That's when Chiron appeared.

The old trainer called out, "Jason would please come here before you begin."

He sighed.

Despite the use of the word _please_, Jason easily recognized the courteous suggestion for what it was...an order. Jason let his hand fall free of his Celestial Bronze gladius's hilt, and did his best to dawn a mask of neutrality that would disguise his more negative emotions, before he calmly turned on his heels to stride back toward the aged centaur. He stopped approximately five feet shy of the Camp Counselor, the appropriate distance if he were addressing Consul Lupa, and out of habit saluted, right fist over the center of his chest.

Chiron smiled, and it was a warm thing, unlike the familiar vulpine grin of the wolf-goddess.

"Before you go tiring yourself out further," began Chiron. "There is the matter of this morning's training exercise."

Jason paused, and hoped his body language would convey the sincerity he felt as he spoke, "Sir, I know that I overstepped my..."

Chiron held up his hand forestalling the apology, "Jason, I am not currently interested in speaking about _that_ matter."

"Y-you aren't?" stammered Jason, confused.

Chiron shook his head, "No. I'm not."

"Then what exercise _are _you referring to, Sir?"

Chiron raised one eyebrow, and though he tried to conceal it, one corner of his mouth quirked slightly upward, "If memory serves we still need to see to your private lesson for the day."

Jason could feel his mask falter, as his mind screamed, _"Private lesson!"_

Chiron couldn't be serious. He assumed the _private lesson_ to merely be a pretense. A way for Chiron to isolate him before dressing him down for the questionable choices he had made. It was the exact way Lupa would have comported herself while in public, though everyone would have known what would later transpire behind closed doors.

Chiron's ancient eyes saw the gears turning in Jason's mind, and very succinctly stated, "I. Am. Not. Lupa."

Something about the simple statement stoked the coals of Jason anger, rekindling the erratic bursts of electricity. Sparks literally flying, Jason replied, "Obviously."

The centaur didn't so much as bat an eye at the impromptu light-show, "I'm glad to see you've got your energy back."

Jason just stared straight into the old trainer's eyes.

"Now how about you float about twenty feet up in the air and roast that target you were about to assault."

"Is that an order?"

This time Chiron was the one to glare.

Something about that menacing look, backed by an overwhelming amount of absolute authoritative certainty, set Jason into motion. As ordered he called upon the wind and lifted himself up into the air, while high above the clouds passing over the camp coalesced into dark, _dark_ gray thunderheads. Drawing his sword, the son Jupiter reached up into that seething mass of energy and called down the most powerful primordial force on rumbled as lightning flowed into his blade, and when he the leveled the ancient weapon at the appointed target, blinding white light leapt forward and engulfed the simple mannequin, setting it alight.

The task done, Jason descended slowly until he was standing before Chiron just as he had the moment before.

"Feeling better?" demanded Chiron.

Jason spent a scant second considering the question then said, "No."

Chiron nodded, "Well, if you think it will help, you can set the others ablaze, as well."

Again Jason asked, "Is that an order?"

Chiron shook his head, "Honestly, I don't want to have to replace them. However, you are clearly agitated and sometimes the opportunity to release pent-up aggression is a better remedy than talking." Chiron rubbed his shoulder then shrugged. "I leave the choice to you."

Jason understood that. It was the same thought he had arrived at before Chiron's appearance. So, without hesitating, the child of Rome turned, raised his sword skyward once more, and...nothing happened. There was no concussive sound, no bright flash of light, and no sudden surge of energy.

Confused he turned his eyes up. The storm-clouds were still gathered. Jason could sense the boundless energy dancing around within the darkened mass, screaming to be unleashed. And yet, he couldn't tap into it.

"But why?" Jupiter's son asked aloud of no one.

Behind him Chiron choked a grunting cough, before answering, "Because it runs counter to your nature."

Jason looked back over his shoulder at the centaur with his scraggly goatee, tweed jacket, bow, and quiver.

"Now I think we can finally have a long overdue talk."

* * *

Silently the two of them walked back to the Big House. The stroll did much to alleviate the tension Jason had been experiencing, but aided him little while he tried to suss-out what he and Chiron were going to talk about.

Obviously, the discussion would relate to the sudden failure of Jason's powers. Why now though? Since his arrival nearly three months ago Jason had had little control over his abilities. In fact, as he searched his patchwork memories, he couldn't recall a time when they were wholly reliable and at his call. But then most demigods were like that...weren't they?

"_No, that's not true,"_ he thought. _"Leo and Piper call upon their gifts whenever they want."_

By the time this thought occurred to him, Jason and Chiron had started climbing the steps up onto the Big House's wrap around porch.

The normally quiet sanctuary of the Camp Counselor was a buzz with feverish activity. Many of the kids from Cabin Seven ran to and fro shouting injury reports and clamoring for the proper medical supplies to tend them. Looking in through the curtained windows, and listening to shouted updates, Jason was confident none of the campers had suffered anything more serious than a broken leg or wrist, common enough injuries after a mock battle. Experience told him that by the time lunch rolled around, most of them would be fine."

Inexorably they made their way over to the small square fold-up table that always stood at the ready should Mr. D, Camp Half-Blood's Senior Director, also known as Dionysus, return for a game of Pinochle. Though he had yet to see it happen.

However, it was the next sight that always seemed to fascinate Jason.

Chiron backed over to his wheelchair and proceeded to squeeze eight hundred pounds of horse into a space that should have been to small for a four year old to hide beneath. Most, he knew, never batted an eye at the sight. And really why should he? Until the fight with Enceladus he had been in possession of a golden coin that could transform into either a sword or a spear, depending upon which side it landed. However, a magical inanimate object was one thing, but this was an enchanted wheelchair interacting with a flesh and blood being. In Jason's mind there was a big difference.

His task done Chiron snapped the front of his chair closed, and beckoned Jason forward to have a seat.

Chiron began, "Have you come up with any ideas about the nature of our impending discussion?"

Jason looked back over the thoughts he had just had and nodded in the affirmative.

Chiron flashed the grin of a proud teacher, "Well?"

"Why can Piper and Leo use their powers while I can't?"

"Ah, but you can Jason."

Jason cocked and eyebrow at the old centaur, exasperated. Chiron clearly knew what Jason meant, but like a grammar teacher who stressed..."May I?" over "Can I?" he wanted Jason to be more specific with his question.

The son of Jupiter sighed, "Point taken. So why, like earlier, can I only sometimes use my powers while others seem to be able to use theirs anytime?"

Chiron shifted in his seat, somehow managing to lean backwards, "It's like I said by the sword arena. It runs counter to your nature."

Jason closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, "But what does that mean?"

Rather than reply directly Chiron countered, "How much do you know about the events leading up to and following the Trojan War?"

Jason, despite his years of training with Lupa, threw his head back, and actually said aloud, "He can't be serious."

"Oh, but he is," chuckled Chiron.

Jason let his head roll back so he could eye his amused tormentor. Sure enough, the old teacher looked serious in spite of the grin he currently sported.

_"How could anyone dare ask a child of Rome a question like that and not be joking." _wondered Jason.

In truth he couldn't help but know about that war. The surviving Trojans were the founders of Rome after all.

_"He knows that. So why does he even bother asking?"_

Jason once more reigned in his emotions and outlined the basics, "The war started when the three goddesses Juno, Minerva, and Venus began to argue over which of them was the most beautiful."

Chiron lifted his ti his mouth, and ahem-ed, before amending, "Actually it was Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite."

Jason shot back, "You asked me. So, I'm telling it my way."

Chiron raised his hands conceding the point.

Placated Jason continued, "So they devised a contest. They brought to Jupiter a golden apple. When he asked what the apple was for, the goddesses explained that it was for him to decide which of them was the most beautiful and that he was to present whomever he chose with the apple." Jason smiled, "Dad might have his faults, but nobody should have been stupid enough to get involved judging that beauty pageant."

Chiron nodded his agreement.

"Well fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your point of view, Jupiter knew of one man vain enough to do it...Paris, Prince of Troy. So, under the premise that he could not in good faith choose between three such beautiful women, my Father cast down the apple and told Juno, Minerva, and Venus that the man who finds the apple was the person most capable to settle their dispute." Jason shook his head, "Paris found it and, after being offered several bribes, declared Venus the winner."

Chiron fingered his goatee, before saying, "Excellent. Now we can move..."

"Onward?" interrupted Jason. "Are you sure?" he quizzed. "I can keep going."

Chiron shook his head, "No. No, that is quite..."

Jason grinned, "Enough? I'm not so sure. After all, I only just got started. There's still the specifics of the bribes, and of course the agreements between the various Kings of ancient Greece. How Paris violated those agreements and worse the sacrosanct laws of Guest and Host."

Chiron huffed, "No need. I know all..."

Thoroughly enjoying the turnabout Jason continued forward, "Of course there is the little matter of the actual _war_, the battle between Hector and Achilles, Ulysses's clever little horse, and the Prophetess of Doom's involvement." Jason stopped, took a breath, then added, "Furthermore, that's just the mortal perspective. I haven't begun to mention..."

Chiron sighed, seemingly resigned to his fate.

"things from the perspective of the gods, the actual razing of Troy, and Antaeus's journey from the shores of the fallen city, to his arrival on the far side of Italy." Jason flashed a big smile, and leaned forward on the table, propping his chin on the heel of his hand, "Are you sure you don't want me to tell you all about those events?"

Chiron sighed again, "I suppose I deserved that."

Jason actually managed to put on a straight face before adding, "I suppose you did."

"Are you finished then?" asked the centaur, shaking his head slightly.

Jason let the question hang in the air for a moment, drawing out the moment's last sliver of amusement, "As long as you're ready to get to the point?"

Chiron nodded, "I am."

Rather than reply Jason just let Chiron take the lead.

"The reason for my question is this," explained Chiron. "I needed to know if you knew the facts only, or if you also recognized the folly of the situation."

"What do you mean?"

"When you mentioned Paris's vanity that confirmed you capable of understanding what I needed to say without going into a more in-depth explanation."

Jason nodded at that. Most people, he knew, merely saw Paris's actions as moronic. It was a rare person that actually recognized the more base instincts behind the Prince's ill-advised choices. Sure there were other factors like greed and envy, but ultimately it was Paris's vanity that drove him to make such an impossible judgment. He actually _believed_ that he, a mere mortal, was the only person capable of choosing between three perfect gemstones. Of course Paris couldn't, and it was just his greed and envy that led him to choosing Venus's bribe, the hand of the fairest mortal woman of the age, Helen of Sparta, wife of King Menelaus.

"Paris's vanity, Hector's pride, and Cassandra's disloyalty, these along with any number of other individual examples from either side, Greek or Trojan, were the catalyst for your ancestors' change. The Trojans saw first hand what the united actions of the entire nation of Greece were capable, while at the same time they witnessed the consequences of individual weakness born from the hubris of perceived strength," Chiron explained. "They recognized that a power greater than the sum of its parts came together, and that it was that collective strength that brought down the walls no individual city-state had ever managed to breech." Chiron's gaze seemed to bore into him as he finished, "Sound familiar?"

"Yes," acknowledged Jason.

It was in fact the fundamental foundation of a Roman Legion.

Chiron nodded, "The journey across the unknown and hostile waters of the Mediterranean further reinforced this pack mindset. It hammered the point home so well, that it actually changed the Trojans, and by extension the Greek gods, all the way down to their cores."

Jason put in, "I knew that."

"You did, but you fail to understand the true extent of the change. This change is why you have trouble accessing your godly powers. It's an instinctual fail safe born of the lessons learned during the fall of Troy. Power like that is a trait gifted to you _alone_. If you were free to access it anytime, it would undermine the pack like nature inherent to a Legion."

Jason had trouble wrapping his mind around that. How could being able to blast an enemy to pieces create a weakness in the Legion? With constant access to that kind of ability he could have saved a lot of lives during the Titan War. How could that have been wrong?

Chiron gave him a level look, and twisted his wrist, the universal sign of continue.

That's when it hit him, _"Because if one man could destroy an army, what's the point of having an army in the first place."_

Chiron recognized the light of understanding shining out from behind Jason's eyes and smiled, "Let me give you another example. Does Lupa drill all your legionnaires in advanced sword dueling?"

Jason answered without hesitation, "No."

"Why not?" pressed Chiron.

The simple answer, not everyone possessed a natural talent for it, but following his newly discovered logic the answer turned out to be a lot more ruthless.

"It limits the troops' options, further reinforcing their need to stay together as a single cohesive group."

Chiron beamed at him, before adding, "I taught side by side with Lupa for the better part of two thousand years. She does not discourage individuals from pairing off or forming small groups in order to harness their latent talents with a sword or spear, it builds camaraderie. However, neither does she do anything to readily encourage the practice. Individuality is dangerous. Unity is strength. That's the Shewolf's motto."

Jason knew the truth of that statement, and agreed, "It is."

"That is why Greeks and Romans don't get along. After surviving the horrors of Troy you ancestors came to view their Greek individuality as weakness and insubordination. On the other hand Greeks would later look upon the newly born Roman's discipline and unity and judge it to be overbearing slavery. The two sides always wind up fighting because you are quite literally walking and talking, versions of cats and dogs."

"Then why do I seem to get along with Clarisse and the Ares kids, and how come I could call down that lightning earlier?"

Chiron, expecting the son of Jupiter's questions, responded, "Ares was the patron god of Sparta, and Sparta was the one Greek city-state that curtailed individualism nearly as much as early Rome. You, Jason Grace, are a wolf finding kinship amongst a pride of lions."

Jason paused at the absurdity of that statement.

"As for the answer to your second question," continued Chiron. "You were not purposely tapping into your divine powers."

Jason blinked, "I wasn't?"

Chiron shook his head, "You were simply following an order issued by a commanding officer."

Jason felt completely at a loss; however, something wouldn't allow him to concede just yet, "But I've seen plenty of cadets back at the academy using their powers."

"Passive abilities I'll wager, or they are the children of a minor god that experienced only a slight change when they received their new Roman name. Also, when faced with a life or death scenario or in moments of extreme duress a Roman-born demigod may sometimes call upon any latent abilities he or she might possess. But in the end, rare is the child of Rome that can actively call upon the blessings of his or her goldly parent."

Growing frustrated again, Jason whispered, "If you knew all of this, then why did you allow me to lead Cabin Eleven on that march? Also, what was the point of all those private lessons if there was no chance of me learning to control my powers?"

Chiron sighed. And for the first time since Jason had met him, the old centaur truly looked his age, "I allowed you to lead those marches, and gave you those lessons, so when we finally had this conversation you stood at least a decent chance of comprehending what I would say. I do not like how the other events unfolded, but as Lupa would say, it was a necessary sacrifice. We need you, Jason Grace, and those heroes like you amongst the Romans, if we are to survive the coming catastrophe, and we _absolutely_ need each side to understand one another."

Chiron maneuvered his motorized chair away from the table, "Now if you will excuse me I would very much like to be alone for a time."

Off in the distance the conch horn, signaling lunch, sounded.

"Please see to it that you and the other Senior Counselors join me back here once the midday meal is concluded."

And Chiron left, leaving Jason alone to mull over all the recent revelations.

Jason closed his eyes, and thought to himself, _"That's why the old trainer was so upset. He wasn't angry at us for fighting. He was angry with himself for purposely allowing it to happen."_


	4. Ch 3 Nico

Chapter 3

**Nico**

Beneath the boughs of Thalia's Tree, a lone and exhausted demigod rested against the side of a large, sleeping black canine. He rocked in time with the creature's breaths, silently taking in the sight of Camp Half-Blood's chariot stadium while it rapidly emptied. He wasn't high enough up to actually see what had prompted such a swift exodus, but he could guess. For only moments ago, the slightly chilled breeze of early spring carried within it, the unmistakable sounds of battle.

Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, shifted his shoulders and called over his back, "What do you think that was all about?"

Behind him Mrs. O'Leary, the huge hellhound that had years ago befriended the ancient inventor Daedalus, lifted her head, snorted, and promptly returned to her nap.

Nico couldn't help grinning.

The great mastiff certainly deserved a break. She had after all, transported the two of them from the outskirts of the Fields of Punishment, to San Francisco, before finally returning here to Camp Half-Blood, New York. The entire excursion had taken less than two hours. Normally a trip of such length, conducted during the day, was quite nearly impossible. In fact, it would have been had the son of Hades not added his own reserves of strength to Mrs. O'Leary's, during the last leg of the journey.

"You don't say," yawned the equally tired demigod. "Well how about you tell me why you always drop me off at the top of this hill? You're not the only one that's tired, you know?"

Mrs. O'Leary, presumably still asleep, heaved out a well timed and oddly indignant sounding sigh.

Nico rolled his eyes, then patted the majestic hound on her side, "Really girl, you did great. Now let's just hope Annabeth's smarts can make better use of the intel we managed to get our hands on."

Nico willed himself slowly upward. As he rose the landscape closer to the base of the hill, slowly revealed itself. Close to standing, the son of Hades, noticed a blond figure pushing a loaded wheelbarrow up the steep hillside. He squinted, and after a second, recognized the husky figure of Argus, the camp's head of security.

The multi-eyed watchman looked exactly as Nico recalled, with one exception. Instead of his more conservative ensemble, the guy wore a vibrant red and purple striped Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. Percy, the son of Poseidon, had often joked that Argus was a closet surfer, what with his shoulder length hair, perpetual tan, and bright blue eyes. However, this was the first time Nico found himself agreeing with the wayward demigod's theory.

As Argus drew closer, Nico finally identified the wheelbarrow's contents...meat scraps.

The son of Hades turned and gazed across the top of Mrs. O'Leary's back.

Wrapped around the base of Thalia's Pine, Peleus, the camp's adolescent purple dragon and guardian of the legendary Golden Fleece, began to stir.

Then another motion on the periphery of his field of vision drew the son of Hades' attention away from the waking serpent.

Mrs O'Leary's snout twitched as she detected the raw aroma of an approaching meal.

Nico, another grin spreading across his face, shook his head. Now he knew why the overgrown hellhound liked returning to this spot, she knew a meal was always forthcoming.

A moment later Argus crested the top of the hill.

Upon seeing the two of them Argus paused, and the sentry's eyes began to rotate. Nico could feel the stalwart sentinel's blue eyes taking in every possible detail, from all possible angles: front, back, left, right and above. Nico had to suppress the urge to shudder while Argus's countless eyes raked over him again and again. Finally, after an endless second or three, the camp's chief of security released his grip on the meat laden wheelbarrow, and very gently crossed his arms, careful to avoid damaging the dozens of eyes running down the length of each forearm. Argus just glared.

"What?" asked Nico.

Eleven visible eyeballs, three on each forearm, one on the back of each hand, two typically placed eyes, and one centrally placed on the forehead, all swiveled from the son of Hades, to Mrs. O'Leary, and lastly back to Argus's morning burden.

Nico crossed his own arms, and jerked his head toward the sluggishly rising hellhound, "Don't look at me it was her idea." Then, after a quick pause, Nico added, "Besides she's earned it."

All those unflappable blue eyes slithered back over Nico's skin, as Argus once more regarded him. Rumor had it, Argus rarely spoke because it revealed one additional eye, centrally located on the man's tongue. But at that moment, the camp's head of security, needn't say a word, his glare alone said it all, "I am not hauling another load up here. You and that beast need to get to camp. Now."

Nico, his insecurity tweaked by the gaze, began pouring over the few memories he had of the polyclops. Though he visited Camp Half-Blood infrequently, he almost always ran into Argus. Thinking on it, that was probably by design. Nico knew most camper's only tolerated his presence, so Argus probably made it a point to keep his eyes on the potentially volatile, son of Hades. But in all of those seemingly happenstance encounters he couldn't recall ever doing anything to draw the man's ire.

It was then that Nico's pulse started to quicken with rage.

Some small part of him wanted to rebel, to lash out against the unwarranted gaze. Despite his unpopular social status, he was still a camper just like everyone else. Argus had no right to look at him like that. For the briefest of instances, Nico contemplated drawing the hidden weapon at his side...but only for an instant. Because at that moment a memory, born from the same emotional spring as the rage, surged upward demanding to be heard.

From across the reaches of time, the ghostly words of his sister rang out, "Holding grudges is dangerous for a child of Hades. It is our fatal flaw."

Nico, a single tear rolling down his cheek, took a steadying breath.

The nomadic son of Hades, had somehow managed to acquire a measure of maturity, in the three years since the Fury Alecto escorted him, and his late sister Bianca, from the timeless haze of the Lotus Hotel. That maturity, the budding maturity of a thirteen year old youth straddling the line between boy and man, strengthened by the words of Bianca, took hold, casting back the anger born from his more childish impulses.

Calmly, he put his tired mind to work.

Mimicking Argus, Nico took a few seconds to further assess the sentry's rather unusual choice of clothes. The shirt was overly large and baggy, and if not for the brown belt at Argus's waist the shorts would certainly fall to the ground. Obviously the clothes didn't belong to Argus, and he knew of only one being in camp that wore such an ensemble, although it was typically paired with purple sweat pants.

The son of Hades, his eyes widening, looked down at the bloody assortment of butchered meat then back up at the polyclops.

Nico blurted, "You wouldn't!" Before hastily adding in a more inquisitive tone, "Would you?"

As unnerving as Argus's glare could be, it had nothing on the man's look of astonishment. Argus, all of his eyes growing large with worry, looked like a six foot tall abstract hippie sculpture. Now, instead of suppressing a bout of shivers, Nico worked to stifle an outburst of laughter.

Argus looked on the verge of bolting, when the son of Hades recovered his composure, "Dude, it's okay. I'm no snitch."

Then Nico played witness to a truly amazing sight.

Argus closed all but his two human eyes, cracked his lips, and let go a sigh of relief. In that fleeting moment Argus looked absolutely normal, and the son of Hades smiled.

Nico turned to look at Mrs. O'Leary once more. Peleus, had finally extricated his long winding form from the base of the tree and was shouldering into her. The son of Hades knew the playful gesture usually led to a brief wrestling match or chase. Unfortunately for the often lonely Peleus, Nico knew the great hound would simply be too tired to respond this time.

Without taking his eyes off the hellhound, Nico asked, "I know it's a lot of trouble hauling that wheelbarrow up here, but would please make sure Mrs. O'Leary gets plenty to eat. She's exhausted."

A soft baritone voice replied, "I will."

Nico turned, nodded to Argus, and began making his way down toward the camp's dining pavilion, unaware of the rapidly darkening clouds above.


	5. Ch 4 Annabeth

Chapter 4

**Annabeth**

Rather than go back to her own cabin, Annabeth walked alongside Piper and Mitchell, the three of them making a beeline for Cabin Ten. After Mitchell's revelation, Annabeth and Piper agreed that Drew's little canteen most likely contained a love potion meant to ensnare Jason Grace's heart. Normally Annabeth wouldn't get involved with another couple's issues, but ever since Percy's disappearance she kept finding herself increasingly more sensitive to others' relationship troubles.

As they neared the pink colored structure, Mitchell asked, "So what's the plan?"

The two girls stopped.

Along the way she and Piper had discussed several possibilities, none of them subtle. The usual stuff most people discuss whilst angry: fighting, yelling, humiliating practical jokes; though to be perfectly honest, the chats mostly revolved around humiliation via fighting. After their numerous training sessions, Piper could easily see to one or both. However, Mitchell's question certainly raised some concerns.

Annabeth looked to Piper, and found the daughter of Aphrodite staring back, each silently asking the other the same question, "What do you think?"

The daughter of Athena began applying logic to the situation.

Under normal circumstances, a very vocal or even physical altercation of this nature wouldn't be unheard of, particularly between siblings, nor would it really be frowned upon by Mr. D or Chiron. Both understood demigods were fiercely independent and violent by nature. In point of fact, demigods represented the godly version of the U.S. Military's smart bombs. You designate a target, point them in that direction, press a button, stand back and watch the fireworks. Trying to prevent fights from breaking out between demigods was the next best thing to impossible.

Unfortunately, these were hardly _normal_ circumstances. For whatever reason, Jason's continued presence seemed to be unsettling the camp's _relatively_ tranquil atmosphere. Which was sad because from Annabeth's perspective, the rising animosity felt like something Jason could easily prevent, if he just acted around everyone the way he behaved around Piper and Leo. The discrepancy in behavior just didn't add up, and more over it turned the camp into a powder keg, on the brink of exploding. And an open altercation between _any_ two campers might be enough to light the fuse.

Across from her, Annabeth noticed the daughter of Aphrodite's brow furrowing, almost as though Piper had read the direction of Annabeth's thoughts.

"So what do we do?" asked the clearly struggling daughter of Aphrodite.

Annabeth began to reply, when behind them a earthshaking clap of thunder rolled across the darkened sky of Camp Half-Blood, startling the daughter of Athena and two children of the love goddess.

As she spun to gaze back toward the swords arena, Annabeth calmly pronounced, "For now we do as Chiron instructed. We wait here and make sure everyone stays confined to their cabins." Then glancing back towards Piper, she added, "After the Counselors' meeting we'll look into the Drew problem."

Standing to Annabeth's left, Mitchell squeaked, "Fine with me."

* * *

A short time later, the conch sounded.

After being confined, the throngs of demigods burst forth from their various cabins and stampeded toward the dining pavilion. Annabeth, Piper, and Mitchell stood well clear of the fray patiently observing, ready to intervene should the need arise. Luckily, the campers, drunk on the newly reinstated freedom, were to enthusiastic to worry about the pre-lunch brawl.

The daughter of Athena couldn't help but wonder how long the endorphins would last, and judging from the look on Piper's face, while she leered at Drew's departing back, that wouldn't be long.

Once the last of the camper's were well on their way, Annabeth looked over at the son Aphrodite and said, "Go ahead to the pavilion, Mitchell. There's something Piper and I need to do before we eat."

The two siblings stared at her, both clearly wondering what she was talking about.

Then, half a second later, Piper's eyebrows rose ever so slightly, and she reaffirmed, "Right, with all the craziness, we left something undone back at the Big House."

"Oh. Do you need some help?" offered Mitchell.

Annabeth regarded the young demigod, much the same way she had, before sending him to find Chiron. Outwardly, nothing about her earlier observation needed updating. However, if she looked beyond the upscale clothes, the daughter of Athena could clearly see the young man possessed a scrappers attitude. Aside from the one earlier comment about grass stains and scuffed shoes, he had yet to complain about running around mussing his clothes or disheveling his appearance. And on top of that, here he stood volunteering his help, no thought given to what might be asked of him, should she accept. The guy had spirit.

But, spirit or no, Annabeth didn't want the other campers learning of her newly discovered lead. At least not before she could confirm whether or not it would actually bring her to Percy.

"Thanks Mitchell, really. But this should only take a few minutes."

The young son of Aphrodite's sounded crestfallen, "Alright, as long as you're sure it'll only take a minute."

Annabeth nodded, "Only a minute, and then we'll be right behind you."

Mitchell, his posture lapsing from disappointment, also nodded, before adding, "But if you guys need anything..."

Standing to Annabeth's left and behind Mitchell, Piper arched a brow and dipped her head toward her little brother. Annabeth easily understood the meaning behind the gesture. This was probably the first time Mitchell had played a pivotal role at camp, and now Piper didn't want her little brother walking away feeling like he was no longer useful. Likewise, Annabeth knew the elder child of Aphrodite couldn't say anything. Any attempt by Piper to intervene would just be seen as patronizing by her younger sibling.

Annabeth interrupted the young man's offer, "In the meantime, you can go keep an eye on things for us back at the pavilion."

"In the meantime?"

The daughter of Athena nodded.

Mitchell drew himself back up and strained to maintain a serious expression, "I can do that, but what if the fighting starts back up?"

"Stall," replied Annabeth. "Just do whatever you can to keep people talking."

And from behind Mitchell Piper added, "Plus, Leo should be there. If things start getting out of hand talk to him. Leo's mastered the art of ducking a fight."

Mitchell, still trying to hide his eagerness and uncertainty, gave a single curt nod then strode away.

As Piper watched her little brother walking purposely toward the distant pavilion, she said over to her friend, "Thanks."

Annabeth grinned then resumed walking toward the Big House, "What are friends for."

Falling in beside her, Piper asked, "So do you really plan on taking just a couple of minutes?"

"You don't believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you meant what you said," replied Piper, amusement tinting her words. "I just doubt your ability to accurately judge time, once you get back on the phone."

Piper's statement stung, and Annabeth for half a heartbeat wanted to dispute it out of pure contrariness. However, the rational side of her personality, the side which had spent most of the morning fighting an uphill battle with her emotions, reminded her that her friend's comment made sense.

So rather than dwell on her wounded pride, Annabeth smiled and said, "Good thing I'll have a friend there who can keep track of it for me."

Piper returned the smile, but only just.

Annabeth wasn't nearly her friend's equal when it came to reading another's mood; however, even a casual observer could see the daughter of the love goddess was troubled, and it didn't take someone with a genius level IQ to figure out the source of Piper's worry. Annabeth swallowed. She knew this was not a subject to be brought up lightly, while at the same time it was something that Piper wanted to talk, but wouldn't broach herself.

"Piper," began Annabeth.

Piper cut her eyes over to the daughter of Athena, "Yes?"

"Has something happened to Jason?"

A long silent moment passed before Piper worriedly responded, "I'm not sure, but something is definitely happening to him."

Annabeth swallowed an _obviously_, and instead puzzled, "Does it have anything to do with his memories? He hasn't talked to me much, but he did say they didn't feel right."

"That's right," agreed Piper. "He often says they are like looking through the eyes of another person. Their his experiences, Jason doesn't that, but...well I don't think that's the problem."

That piqued the daughter of Athena's curiosity.

Piper continued, "I can't say what it is exactly. After all, my own memories of Jason are clouded thanks to the _mist_."

"But you have a theory?" prompted Annabeth.

Piper shook her head, "It's just _him_...his demeanor. Jason's been walking around camp as though he were surrounded by enemies. I don't know why, but his posture becomes slightly more rigid, his eyes take on a disapproving glean, whenever he's around anyone other than me or Leo."

"Speaking of Leo..." interjected Annabeth. "What does he have to say about this? Have you mentioned it to him?"

Piper, obviously rankled, quirked her brow and stared indignantly.

"Sorry," apologized Annabeth, chastened.

Piper dipped her head ever so slightly, then resumed, "What makes it worse, is he doesn't even realize he's doing it." Piper gave her a very intent look then, "And, yes, I have talked to Leo...he doesn't see it. Frankly, it would amaze me if he did. Leo's been so obsessed with fixing Festus and finishing the Argo II that he's hardly set foot outside of Bunker 9. Yesterday I almost used charm-speak just so Leo would promise to come to the pavilion for lunch today."

Annabeth dropped her eyes downward passed her orange t-shirt and pants. She watched as her feet moved forward left over right over left, all the while contemplating Piper's words. The daughter of Athena trusted her friend's observation. If Jason was unconsciously projecting an aura of hostility _that_, along with the burgeoning Giant War, would definitely account for the camp's intolerable level of anxiety.

"But why is Jason suddenly coming off as hostile around us?" Annabeth pondered, aloud.

Ahead of them, Jason answered, "Well, if Chiron's right, it's because Greeks are cats and Romans are dogs. By the way Annabeth, do you know this guy?"

Jerking her head up, Annabeth was shocked to see Nico di Angelo being half carried by the son of Jupiter.

Nico smiled weakly, "Annabeth Chase, just the person I came to see."

The sudden appearance of the son of Hades set Annabeth's mind to spinning. Already today she had been interrupted while trying to finally locate Percy, the interruption being a truncated civil war, which had yet to be fully understood, and now her mind was trying to force that mystery on to the back burner while simultaneously trying to contemplate what Nico's sudden arrival might mean.

The daughter of Athena rubbed at her temples while idly noting the details of Nico's wardrobe. He was clad in his typical dark colors; ripped black jeans, the trademark brown bomber's jacket, underneath the coat was a black t-shirt, sporting an image of the grim reaper riding a Harley, and on his left hand he wore a single skull ring. The only item missing from his ensemble was the short Stygian Iron sword, normally sheathed against his side.

Setting aside the absent sword, the mental cataloging successfully refocused Annabeth's thoughts, and she quickly moved up to the son of Hades and asked, "Nico, what _happened_? Are you okay?"

He visibly strained, but somehow managed to take most of his weight off the stooped Jason's shoulder.

Now that she was closer, the daughter of Athena added paler skin tone and an additional inch of height to the mental record she kept on the child of Hades.

Instead of Nico, Jason answered, "I found him sitting, exhausted, on the ground halfway between here and Half-Blood Hill. I asked him the same thing, and..."

"I told him I was fine," finished Nico. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have a candy bar, would you?" Nico's stomach growled and his face flushed, but in spite of the embarrassment the heir of Hades would not be deterred as he added, "I could eat a pegasus right now."

Beside Nico and opposite of Jason, Piper, who had initially moved over to help her boyfriend support the weakened demigod, balked at the son of Hades' choice of words, "Eat a..._pegasus_!"

Nico swung his head toward the agitated child of Aphrodite, "Yeah, what of..." Upon making eye contact with Piper, whatever the young man was going to say stuck fast in his throat, while his slack-jaw hit the proverbial floor.

Annabeth rolled her eyes wondering what it was about Piper's _big-brown eyes _that seemed to enthrall every guy that caught a direct glimpse of them.

Then pain flashed across Annabeth'ss right shoulder. She and Nico both yelped, "Oww!"

Rubbing her shoulder the daughter of Athena quickly scanned for the source of the pain, while at the same time Jason heatedly spoke, "_Sorry_."

She and Nico, again synchronized, looked over at the son of Jupiter.

Jason stood, his right hand locked around Nico's left wrist, scowling at the son of Hades while small burst of static electricity arced through the air all around them.

"Jason!" shouted Piper.

The son of Jupiter glanced away from the three of them, "Sorry, Piper."

"Sorry, Piper!" blurted Nico. "I'm the one being electrocuted over here."

Annabeth refrained from adding her own complaint of pain, and instead turned the conversation back towards Nico's arrival, "Nico, are you sure you're okay? No one's heard from you in almost a month. Where's your sword, and why did you say 'Annabeth Chase, just the person I came to see?"

Nico harrumphed, "I was _okay_, at least until Sparky here suddenly decided to impersonate a wet wall outlet."

"_Sparky_," challenged Jason. "Oh would you like to see some sparks, short stuff?"

Piper's voice boomed, "The both of you stop! Right now!" Once the two boys quieted down, Piper added, in a more gentle tone, "Nico...it is Nico right?"

The son of Hades nodded his head in the affirmative.

"Why don't you answer Annabeth's questions now."

The daughter of Athena grinned, while Nico began compulsively answering, "Yeah I'm good. I'm just really tired. Mrs. O'Leary and I just spent the morning shadow traveling from the underworld to San Francisco then back here to camp. My sword isn't lost it's in the enchanted sheath strapped to the belt on my hip. And I came looking for you because earlier this morning I helped a nasty guy named George escape the Fields of Punishment in exchange for information on Percy's whereabouts."

Each of the three demigods focused on one aspect of what they had just heard, and asked all at once.

"Shadow travel?" puzzled Piper, confused.

"Sword?" demanded Jason, wary.

"Information?" breathed Annabeth, hopeful.

Rather than respond, Nico's eyes fluttered then he groaned, "Wh-what just happened?"

"Charm-speak," replied the daughter of Athena. "Now about this infor..."

Nico sagged, nearly toppling the son of Jupiter.

"Hey, kid..." began Jason.

"Food," moaned Nico.

Worried Piper cautioned, "I think we better get him to the Big House. The Apollo cabin is still there. Right Jason?"

"Sure," confirmed the son of Jupiter. "But in my experience, when a soldier asks for food instead of a refusing nourishment, he's just tired. I vote we take him to the pavilion like he asks."

Both of them then looked to Annabeth, expecting her to break the tie.

"If he's been shadow traveling, then it's like Jason said," explained the daughter of Athena. "Nico just needs some food and rest."

"You sure?" questioned Piper.

Annabeth nodded then quickly tucked herself beneath Nico's other arm, trusting that Piper would reason out why she hadn't allowed the daughter of Aphrodite to help shoulder Jason's burden.

Taking her fair share of the boy's weight, Annabeth soothed, "Don't worry Nico. We're going to get you some hot food."

Nico managed a weak smile, "Thanks."

Together, with Nico in tow, they set off toward the midday's meal.

Walking along side Jason, Piper asked, "So what about your other lead?"

"Other lead?" said Jason.

"It'll just have to keep," answered Annabeth. "Besides maybe the information Nico's gotten a hold of will eliminate the need to contact Mr. Marco a second time."

"Marco," mumbled Jason, beneath his breath. "Now why does that name sound familiar?"

* * *

Reviews and PMs are welcomed, and for those wondering, my next chapter will be a Gwen chapter. And of course thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter


	6. Ch 5 Gwen

Chapter 5

**Gwen**

Her father gone, the daughter of Apollo burst into action. The howl was not a warning, but the call to an emergency meeting. Someone or something of high standing must have or would be arriving shortly. The only questions were "Whom?" and "What?".

Gwen poured through the contents of her footlocker, neatly setting aside one t-shirt and pair of pants after another, searching for her purple long sleeved dress shirt and black pleated slacks, the attire a meeting of this nature required. The compulsively organized Tribune Medica, finally found the necessary clothing, resting against the bottom of the aged trunk. Time and lack of use had allowed these singularly important articles of clothing to drift slowly downward.

Gwen silently cursed her own laziness.

The fact the clothes had not seen use since Percy's elevation to Praetor, meant little to her innate sense of responsibility. The necessary attire at last in hand, she quickly, and neatly, returned what remained of her wardrobe to its proper resting place, withholding only a single pair dark socks.

Consulting her internal clock, Gwen determined she had just over thirteen minutes remaining to make herself presentable before she would be expected to appear, along with the academy's other senior officers, before Consul Lupa inside the Principia's forum. The clock ticking, Gwen gathered up the mandatory garments, and moved into her apartment's modest bathroom.

Lacking the necessary time to properly wash and groom herself, the daughter of Apollo improvised. Rather than brushing and flossing her teeth, Gwen took hold of a bottle, opened it, and proceeded to swish and gargle mouthwash, trusting her teeth's hygiene to a lifetime of exacting care. Thoroughly swishing the searing blue liquid, she picked up a hairbrush and began quickly running the coarse synthetic fibers through her tangled golden curls. When she could no longer bare the tingling, burning, sensation attacking her gums, Gwen set aside the brush, leaned over the sink, and spat.

Eleven minutes left.

Head rising, Gwen gazed into the wall mounted mirror, and took stock of her appearance. She had slept well, so there were no bags or dark circles lurking beneath her sapphire colored eyes. Also, her tanned skin lacked any of the normal teenage blemishes, and the brushing, brief though it was, did manage to somewhat tame the worst of her bed-head. Still she was not wholly satisfied with how she felt or looked.

Gwen levered the sink's handle open and splashed some invigorating cold water onto her face. Bursts of electricity raced along the daughter of Apollo's synapses, stimulating her mind and reddening her cheeks.

Ten minutes.

The warm scent of fabric softener filled Gwen's nose as she wiped away the cold and moisture with a solid white wash cloth. Then the First Legion's Tribune Medica began the well practiced task of dressing. Her hands raced to complete the chore, tucking in and buttoning the shirt. Her fingers deftly guided a thin black belt around and through her pleated slacks' loops. Shirt and pants properly aligned, the prophetess moved back to her bedside, seated herself, and drew on her socks. Lastly, Gwen reached beneath the edge of bunk, seized a pair of polished black dress shoes and slipped into them.

With four minutes remaining, Gwen paused. Hanging on a hook by the bedroom door was her gladius. The daughter of Apollo possessed little talent with the eighteen inch celestial bronze weapon, but seldom left it behind. Without a preceding and ever increasing yip, Lupa's singular howl carried within it three possibilities. A god had made themselves present for a surprise inspection, or a messenger, baring vital intelligence, had arrived, or a mortal authority of some kind would soon be arriving.

The test of instincts had begun.

Three minutes.

Airing on the side of caution, Gwen seized her weapon's hilt, threw the strap over her shoulder, and marched out through her living room door. Outside, the daughter of Apollo glanced east, right, then west, left, looking up and down the Via Principalis.

The first thing Gwen noticed, upon looking west, was a brown SUV. The vehicle sat motionless just outside the four-story Praetorium, an unadorned building constructed from pristine white marble. Either John Marco, son of Minerva and a former Praetor of the First Legion, or Julia Edmunds, daughter of Mars and also a former Praetor, had called the emergency meeting.

Gwen let go a sigh, as the ball of nervous tension, deep inside the pit of her stomach, slowly uncoiled. She shuddered at the thought of having arrived unarmed with Ranger Edmunds present.

Two minutes.

With so little time, and a renewed sense of urgency, the daughter of Apollo sprinted down the Via Principalis, past the other officers' apartments, none to eager to be late.

Ascending the four wide steps leading to the Forum, Gwen saw the ten foot tall dark oak doors stood agape...beckoning her inside. Just as Gwen stepped over the command building's threshold, Lupa sitting on her haunches at the bottom of the sunken amphitheater, lifted her head and released another singular ear-shattering howl. The Tribune Medica and three others were the only ones to reach the meeting on time.

Gwen winced. Heads were going to roll.

* * *

"By the gods!" swore a familiar voice. "Don't tell me I'm late!"

Gwen turned her pitying gaze back to the speaker, only just now ascending the steps. Hazel, daughter of Ceres, and the Legion's Tribune Tactica, rushed towards her. Despite Hazel's diminutive size, she took the stairs two at a time until at last she stood, panting, just outside the open doorway.

Gwen looked at the gladius hanging from Hazel's hip, and grinned.

"That's exactly what you are," she replied. "But you're not alone. Only four of us made it on time."

Hazel flinched.

Gwen understood the feeling. Looking back at the SUV, she could only hope _both_ Rangers would be in attendance. She could almost always count on Reyna's brother John to at least try and temper some of Ranger Edmunds' outrage.

After a few seconds hard of breathing, Hazel regained her composure enough to ask, "At least tell me that I managed to arrive before Dominguez?"

Emily Dominguez, daughter of Bellona and recently promoted Tribune Logistica...Emily Dominguez, unofficial leader of the, technically, non-existent Anti-Jackson Coalition...Emily Dominguez, model soldier, former ally, and the biggest pain in the gluteus maximus Gwen had ever encountered.

"You did," responded Gwen, ruefully.

Hazel smiled.

Then she added, "The only ones inside are Lupa, Dakota, Bobby, and Reyna."

Hazel's smile vanished. "Gods, Dominguez is going to love that."

Gwen nodded. "More ammunition, that's the last thing she needs."

"Last thing who needs?" inquired an amused young woman's voice.

The two of them turned and glowered.

"Speak of the Devil," whispered Hazel, beneath her breath.

Emily, tall, dark-haired and thin, took the stairs, flanked by the other two Anti-Jackson Coalition leaders.

Michael Davis, son of Sancus and leader of the Third Cohort, stood two her left. Gwen especially disliked the Third Spear's treatment of the Legion's newest Praetor. The red haired veteran's problem actually had little to do with Percy, and everything to do with Reyna and herself breaking oaths by joining the quest two months ago.

And on Emily's right stepped Jessica Berg, the Legion's recently promoted Second Spear. Unlike Emily and Michael, Jessica's reason's for hating Percy had nothing to do with duty or oaths. They were all personal. The blond haired, violet eyed, daughter of Trivia still hadn't gotten over Lupa making Percy her boss, shortly after his arrival.

There was an unwanted, purely political, appointment if Gwen had ever seen one. Gods, she hated politics.

Gwen, wishing to avoid a confrontation, forced a pleasant tone into her voice, before addressing the three new comers. "Good morning Tribune Dominguez."

Meanwhile Hazel, the normally brilliant tactician, opted for a more straightforward approach. "You're late," she huffed.

None of the newcomers rose to the challenge. On the contrary, Emily and Jessica actually seemed to smile, upon hearing Hazel bring up their tardiness. It wasn't until the three officers past in between the columns, supporting the Principia's over hanging roof, that any of them spoke again.

Emily nodded toward herself, then Hazel. "Morning Tribune Hudson, Tribune Evans."

Michael just crossed his arms, looked beyond them into the forum, then shook his head.

Jessica, like Hazel, dispensed with the niceties sooner rather than later. In that same amused tone she used earlier, Jessica replied, "You're one to talk, Ma'am."

"What's that supposed to mean?" challenged Hazel, taking a single step toward the slightly taller girl.

Jessica quirked her head slightly to the side, waved her hand over her throat, then spoke in Hazel's voice, "By the gods, don't tell me that I'm late." She waved her hand again, returning her voice to normal. "We could hear you yelling all the way across the Principalis." She added, with a sneer, "_Ma'am_."

Gwen could see the muscles in her friend's neck tighten. Hazel opened her mouth to respond, when from behind, a new voice growled, "There will be time to posture later, pups. For now, I suggest you step inside and take your places within the Forum."

They all turned. The giant she-wolf was angry. So much so, her fur was actually bristling. Without thinking or waiting for Lupa to speak a second time, all of them marshaled their way past their fuming leader, intent on taking their seats.

As they went, each of them were acutely aware of Lupa padding softly behind them, mumbling beneath her breath, "Four of my senior officers late to an emergency assembly...disgraceful. Never before, can I recall being so ashamed."

Gwen, worried for her friend, swallowed past the dry lump forming in her throat. That's when something Lupa had said grabbed hold of her troubled mind.

As she sat down on the cold marble bench, encircling the centrally raised dais, she asked herself, "Four?" She looked around. "Where's Percy?"

With effortless grace, Lupa hopped atop the platform before the small assembly. The goddess cast her predatory gaze around the room, looking each of them in the eye. Once finished, the Consul spoke, "As some of you may have already surmised, we've had an unexpected visitor arrive, earlier this morning."

No one so much as blinked.

"Also, as you all well know, I called this assembly to relay a bit of news brought to me by former Praetor, current Ranger, John Marco."

This time several people, herself included, looked around for the as yet unseen Ranger.

"Currently, I have sent Ranger Marco to the Praetorium, where he is personally, and privately, explaining this mornings events to Praetor Jackson." Lupa paused. Either waiting for someone to say something, or to merely allow officers to assimilate this breach of protocol in their own time. Several, Jessica chief among, looked to want to say something, but again no one seemed prepared to brave the she-wolf's ire to ask...yet. So, Lupa continued, "For those of you wondering, I have chosen to disregard standard procedure because of a grave lack of information." That raised a few eyebrows. "You see, Ranger Marco received an unusual phone call less than an hour ago. The number was unlisted, and the caller did not, or could not, reveal her name. However, we believe the caller to be one of the Greek-born demigods, currently residing inside the borders of our estranged sister sanctuary...Camp Half-Blood."

Reyna stood.

"Yes, Prefect Barnes?" obliged Lupa.

"Consul, forgive my skepticism, but are you telling me my Brother drove here and convened an emergency assembly, all because of a phone call he received from someone that may, or may not, have been a demigod of the _Greek_ persuasion?"

Despite her outwardly calm facade, Gwen could tell by the uncertain tenor in her friend's voice that Reyna was struggling, floating somewhere in between fear, hope, and disbelief. Gwen couldn't blame her either. If the unidentified caller belonged to the other camp, that probably meant trouble loomed just over the horizon. And thanks to her Father, Gwen knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that to be the case. Also, should it be true, it meant they could be one step closer to bringing Jason home. But should the suspicion prove unfounded, John, and by extension Reyna, would be thoroughly embarrassed, and with things strained as they were amongst the Legion's command structure, Reyna could little afford to be embarrassed, not even by proxy.

"Yes, Reyna, in a way, that is exactly what I am saying, but worry not, for there is little reason to believe our assumption false." Lupa looked away from the Prefect, and then proceeded to address everyone once more. "Abrupt though the call may have been, Ranger Marco is certain of two things. First, the party on the other end of the phone clearly asked to speak with Percy Jackson." Gwen's pulse sped up. "Second, the call ended, only after a third party interrupted, shouting something to the affect of...'Come quick, it's Jason." Lupa smiled. "In all my centuries upon this Earth, that would be the most outlandish bit of coincidence I have ever encountered."

Reyna looked to be on the verge speaking again, when her brother and Percy emerged from the shadows, veiling a side corridor, behind the dais.

"John!" shouted Reyna.

Lupa, simultaneously, commented, "Excellent timing...As usual Ranger Marco."

John smiled toward his sister, and bowed to the Consul's compliment.

Percy, thusly ignored, moved around the dais quietly, an uncertain expression affixed firmly to his face, before sitting down next to her. Then, without looking directly at her, he whispered, "You alright? You weren't late...were you?"

Although, his concern was sweet, Gwen couldn't help feeling insulted. Near though it may have been, how could he ever think she, of all people, would be late to anything. Rather, than voice her irritation, Gwen exaggerated crossing her arms, and discreetly elbowed him the ribs, as she did so.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him wince, then smile.

"Well, Ranger Marco," began Lupa. "Were you, with the aide of Praetor Jackson, able to glean any further insights from the few details with which you could provide?"

Instead of waiting to hear John's reply, Gwen looked to Percy, who promptly shook his head.

"No, Consul Lupa. Unfortunately, Percy cannot recall ever meeting anyone named Piper, while staying at this..._summer_ camp."

"I see," Lupa replied.

John then added, "He did, however, recall that Camp Half-Blood's number was unlisted."

That wasn't surprising. Hadrian's number, after all, was unlisted. In fact, the academy guarded the number so closely that most demigods didn't even know it. She certainly didn't.

Before either Lupa or John could speak further. Jessica stood, and asked, "Isn't this just academic?"

Lupa wheeled on her, and growled, "You were not recognized."

Despite the outward calm she had been presenting, the she-wolf was obviously still angry with Jessica, and the others' tardiness.

To her credit, Jessica didn't back down. "Madame Consul, surely you could render all this unnecessary. Why don't you just tell us the location and number of this camp, so that we can contact them ourselves?"

Gwen rolled her eyes, Hazel looked on the cusp of openly laughing, and Michael and Emily looked horrified. Obviously, nobody had thought to mention to the newly appointed Second Spear that Lupa was still bound by her oath of secrecy. The Consul could only speak to them on the subject, so long as she did not reveal anything to which they had not already learned themselves. That included contacting her counterpart, Chiron. Even if Lupa verified, through the ancient centaur teacher, the call's origin, she could not inform the Legion's officers without potentially revealing some undiscovered fact.

"Sit down, pup," ordered the angered goddess.

Jessica, begrudgingly complied.

With, seemingly, little left to be revealed, Gwen rose. For a moment Jessica looked hopeful that she might continue the argument; however, that was not her intention.

Lupa leveled her unnerving gaze, and inquired, in a slightly softer tone, "Yes, Tribune?"

Gwen, gave a slight bow, it would do little harm to strictly observe protocol with Lupa in such a dower mood. "Consul," she began. "As it would appear there is little left to be revealed. I wish to bring to the assembled officers' attention, a message, delivered to me this morning, by my Father, Apollo."

"A message from Apollo?" puzzled Lupa, her animosity temporarily banished. "That is most unusual. Why was Mercury not dispatched, by Lord Jupiter, with this message? And why were you the one to which it was delivered Tribune Hudson?"

Gwen bowed again, acknowledging the query's validity.

"I can only assume, Consul, that the message was sent to me because it pertains to the prophecy, forced upon me by the disgraced former prophetess, Cassandra."

Lupa nodded.

"My Father, as permitted by Lord Jupiter, informed me the prophecy has been set into motion. He also wished me to know, that I am the only one qualified to lead this quest."

Upon hearing this, the Anti-Jackson Coalition shot to their feet, and began shouting their outrage. Gwen's friends, Percy and Hazel chief among them, rose as well, shouting down the out-of-line, detractors.

Lupa howled, "Silence!"

Not only did everyone stop mid-shouts, but the air itself seemed to become deathly still in the presence of Lupa's fury.

After a moment's pause, Lupa ordered, "Continue, Tribune. I assume there is more to this than your Father appointing you quest leader?"

Of course there was more. While, most had failed to grasp the true importance of the simple worded quest, after the three of them, Percy, Reyna, and herself, had returned last January. Lupa had understood their significance the moment Gwen had recited the words aloud. Clearly the Consul was only asking for the other officers' benefits.

Gwen took a deep breath, "Yes Ma'am. The reason for my being chosen, is simple. I am the only person capable of finding the Castalian Spring."

"The spring that feeds the Fountain of Castalia, in Delphi?" asked Reyna, who knew full well what Gwen meant.

She nodded, "Yes, though the power behind the spring, as with so many other ancient sites, has long since ceased enchanting those legendary waters."

Jessica, again in the dark, asked, "What is this prophecy, exactly?"

Percy and Hazel simultaneously responded.

Should one child arise

The Fountain will die

But the other's rebirth

Brings war to the Earth

Jessica sounded skeptical. "That's it?"

"That's it," answered Gwen.

"Sounds pretty simple," commented the Second Spear. "Why are you the only one that can lead this quest?"

For the first time that morning, Michael Davis spoke. "Because the spring that feeds the fountain originates in the Underworld. And according to legend only a prophet or, in Tribune Hudson's case, a prophetess can locate the fountain's source."

Gwen was surprised. She hadn't expected Michael to come to her defense.

Michael then glared at her. "Isn't that right Gwen?"

She rolled her eyes, and nodded.

"Was there anything else?" inquired John. "Like how you're supposed to reach the Underworld?"

Instead of answering, Gwen turned to Percy, "Dad, said you would be able to help with that."

Percy blinked, then grinned broadly. Gwen instantly regretted mentioning her Father's advice, before mentioning to the _Praetor_, he was forbidden from accompanying her.

So with a mischievous grin brightening his face, Percy replied, "Know any good tailors?"

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thanks for reading.


	7. Ch 6 Annabeth

Chapter 6

**Annabeth**

It took nearly ten minutes, of shoulder straining effort, but they finally managed to reach the dining area. The pavilion, perhaps more than anything else at Camp Half-Blood, had changed greatly since the end of the Titan War. All Annabeth's life the camp's cafeteria stood as a testament to the old ways. The pavilion used to feature just twelve long tables, covered in solid white tablecloths trimmed in orange. Each table represented a different god of the Pantheon. Table One belonged to Zeus and, by extension, the children of his line. Table Two represented Hera, Queen of the gods, and it was the one table that was always empty. Poseidon claimed the third table, Demeter the fourth, and so on it went all the way through to Table Twelve, Mr. D's.

Then came Percy's reward.

Unlike the Camp's cabins, which seemed to increase in number every other month, it was not feasible to add a new table every time a Protector brought back another kid, belonging to a previously unrecognized god. So, in light of the situation, Chiron ordered several extra tables installed, to accommodate all the new demigods, and relaxed the seating regulations. Now, with the exception of the Counselor's table, and the tables named for Zeus, Hera, and Artemis, the campers were free to sit wherever they wished.

She was still adjusting to the sight.

When they stepped through the columns, framing the pavilion, a short but spindly young man, called out, "Piper!" His elvish face, so normally full of mirth, instead radiated annoyance, as he marched across the pavilion. "Dude, do you know how rude it is to make a guy promise to meet you for lunch, then not show up?"

Annabeth looked beyond Nico and Jason, to Piper. The daughter of Aphrodite likewise looked annoyed, but in an amused sort of a way, with her left eyebrow raised.

Never one to wait, Leo shook his head, unintentionally swishing his curly black hair, revealing his pointy ears. Then before Piper could answer, the brown eyed son of Hephaestus, rounded on Jason. He flashed his lopsided grin and demanded, "What's this I hear about you starting a war?"

Jason's head snapped back at the accusation, "Umm..."

Leo thumped Jason on the forehead with one of his nimble fingers. "Not cool man." Then he smiled, broadly, "But whatever. Just don't do it again." Leo moved in between Piper and Jason, throwing an arm around each. "Well whatever, I'm starved...let's eat."

Before Leo could try and drag them away, Annabeth asked, "Leo, do you mind?"

For the first time the boisterous, young man seemed to notice her and the sagging Nico, she and Jason were supporting.

"Oh...Hey Annabeth." He grinned at her, then looked at Nico. "Who's the new guy?"

By that time, and unbeknownst to them, Mitchell had managed to meander his way through the throngs of seated demigods, to stand before her. He declared, "As you can see, everything's been quiet, Ma'am."

Annabeth blinked. Unsure what to say, in lee of the unorthodox and formal greeting.

"Very good, cadet." Responded Jason. "As you were."

Mitchell, pleased with the acknowledgment, smiled and made his way back to his seat.

"What was that?" said Annabeth.

Jason tried to shrug his shoulders, but couldn't with Nico and Leo's arms draped over them, "Force of habit."

"Not you," she amended. "Mitchell."

"He loves the military," chimed in Piper, red faced with embarrassment.

"The..." began Annabeth.

Nico cut her off. "Do you think you could discuss this after we've eaten? I can barely feel my arms."

"Dude's right," agreed Leo. "It's chow-time."

Reminded by Nico, Annabeth tried to shift her own shoulder. It tingled with sleep. Not wishing to waste anymore time, Annabeth began pulling him and, by extension, Jason along the outer edge of tables. With Piper and Leo in tow, they quickly made their way to the one table most everyone, by unspoken agreement, refused to sit at. Poseidon's.

After she and Jason helped Nico to sit down; Piper offered to get him a goblet and some food. After a few minutes Piper returned with a platter ladened with bread, fruits, and some fresh vegetables. Once she handed him the plate, they grew quiet, anxiously waiting to hear what Nico had learned. Unfortunately Nico, upon seeing the tray Piper prepared for him, wasn't in the least bit ready to divulge any information.

"Where's the meat?" he complained.

She sighed. Piper was not the type to force her own preferences onto others, and Annabeth recognized the situation for what it was...an accident. Even so, Piper out of pure reflex, countered, "This is healthier."

"Healthier," moaned Nico, looking longingly up at the buffet. "Who cares about healthy."

"Yeah Piper," agreed Leo. "Cut the guy some slack. He looks terrible." Leo looked at Nico and added, "Dude, what happened to you?" He laughed, "You look like some zombie that just crawled out of the Underworld."

Nico smirked, making his face seem even more ashen, "As a matter of fact, I did just crawl out of the Underworld."

Leo balked, nearly falling off the bench.

Annabeth suppressed a laugh, while she looked at her friends' stunned faces. None of them had met Nico, or even heard of him, before now.

Leo, after regaining his balance, pointed to Annabeth. "She's the smart one," he said. Annabeth frowned. "Her brain's got to be the tastiest."

Now she was the stunned one. She didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted. Was he really trying to save himself, by throwing her in front of a zombie? Not that Nico actually was zombie.

Piper, seeming to read her expression, intervened, "Leo, why don't you go get him some..._meat_."

Jason, silent to this point, asked, "What kind have they got?"

Piper gave him a flat look. "Some grilled fish and the usual assortment of barbecue."

"Leo, if you don't mind, can you throw some barbecue in between a couple slices of bread for me."

Leo, still eying Nico, nodded enthusiastically. "Sure man." He rose. "Uh, you want anything Annabeth?"

Annabeth glared. "No thank you. I'm sure Nico will find my brain appetizing either way." Leo grimaced. At which point she continued, "And don't forget to go to the brazier and make an offering on Nico and Jason's behalf."

He nodded. "Okay. Jupiter and, umm..." Leo glanced back to Nico. "Who exactly do I make an offering to?"

"My Step-Mother, Persephone," replied Nico. "It helps to keep her off my case."

"Right, okay. Two offerings and a side order of barbecue sandwiches coming right up." And with that, Leo hurried over to the buffet.

With everything, settling down, Annabeth went back to quietltly watching, while Nico took large gulps of the root-beer he requested from his goblet. What could he have learned? She wondered. And what did Nico do to obtain his information. Helping someone escape the Fields of Punishment, was no small feat, nor was it something even his Father, Hades, would look kindly upon. Especially, not with Gaea already stirring the pot down below the Earth's surface.

Leo returned a couple of minutes later. He must not have eaten anything before they arrived because his own tray held a substantial amount of food. After selecting a new seat, on the other side of the table, Leo passed over the sandwiches and even an extra goblet for her...a peace offering, it would seem.

Annabeth stared at the enchanted container, then requested a specialty brand of crème soda, one she sampled while visiting her father out in California, and took a few quick drinks.

After glancing once more to Nico, who was alternating between his sandwich and a pomegranate, Annabeth asked, "How are things going with the Argo II?"

Leo looked up from his own plate and shook his head. Then he forced down a large mouthful of food, and added, "The ship is coming along fine. We've nearly finished framing out the body, and soon we'll start sealing the hull." He took a pull form his drink. "But the systems we're installing, in order to make the ship fly, are taking a lot of time to create." He dropped his head. "And I still haven't been able to manufacture a new control disc for Festus, and without him, the ship will probably be to complicated for seven demigods to operate."

"Didn't you tell me, you found a couple of spare control discs awhile back?" said Jason, looking concerned for Leo.

Leo nodded, "Yeah, and if I wanted to rebuild Festus's old body, we'd be all set. But the Argo II has too many new systems, for one of the original discs to control. Like everything else, I'm going to have to create it from scratch."

Piper, trying to sound positive, said, "You can do that. I know you can, Leo."

Annabeth watched, as Leo blushed and grinned sheepishly. Though, he and Jason were best-friends, and Leo knew how Piper and Jason felt about each other, he still wasn't immune to Piper's supernatural charms.

"Thanks Piper. The problem is I don't have the time necessary to reverse engineer the machine used to create the disc."

"Why not?" inquired Annabeth.

Leo rested his chin on his fist, then replied, "I don't have enough experienced workers." Annabeth frowned, and Leo continued. "I've assigned all the senior campers to the most complex systems: anti-gravity generator, flight stabilizers, weapon systems. The other, less experienced campers, are working on the more typical; sonar, radar, communication, propulsion, and navigation systems. I'm having to personally supervise the youngest kids, so they don't screw up and hurt themselves." Leo shrugged, "Normally, I wouldn't worry about that sort of thing. Accidents happen all the time, in machine shops, and you learn from those mistakes, but with such a tight deadline, I can't afford to lose even one pair of hands." He looked at Piper, then Jason, and smiled ruefully. "I hate to say it, but eating lunch with you guys is costing me...big time."

"What's a Festus?" said Nico, finishing off the last of his pomegranate.

Leo looked insulted. "He's not an _a_ Festus. His name _is_ Festus, and he's the most incredible automaton dragon ever designed!"

"Well pardon me!" shouted back Nico. "We zombies don't know anything about robots or dragons. All we care about are brains!"

"He's not a robot," countered Leo. "He's an _automaton_." Leo leaned forward, across the the table, and where his hands touched, the cloth started smoking. "It's completely different."

Before Nico could escalate things further, Piper, for the third time, brought out the charm-speak. "Stop it," she commanded. "Now!"

Everyone in the pavilion, instantly stopped whatever they were doing. All around the only sounds being made came from the countless forks, spoons, and knives clattering off the ground, as people let them slip from their grasp. Thankfully, the magic goblets were spill proof.

Piper went red, with embarrassment. "Sorry everyone," she apologized, lifting the spell.

Everywhere Annabeth turned her gaze, people glowered back, even the normally jovial Stoll twins. No one appreciated being forced to do something against their wills, to which the earlier fight attested. With so many eyes baring down upon them, she thought it unwise to pursue Nico's reappearance. So instead, she, after noticing Mitchell, asked, "What were saying Piper?"

Piper blinked, "Umm...yeah...sorry. I didn't mean to...you know...bewitch everybody."

Annabeth shook her head, "No, not that. I mean Mitchell. What were saying about him and the military?"

She didn't actually care about the young man's military interest. However, she thought it wise to change the subject, and the more light-hearted topic suited the need, nicely.

After a few seconds of understandable confusion, Piper grasped the reasoning behind Annabeth's sudden change of direction. "Right," she agreed. "It's just..." she glanced at Jason. "Ever since we learned where you came from, and the type of life you've been leading, Mitchell's been dying to learn more and more about the military."

Jason tilted his slightly. "Why?" he asked.

"Women love a man in uniform," responded Piper. Jason started shaking his his head, stymieing a laugh. "Well, that's what he says," she opined.

Jason grinned, "Since I arrived here, that's the first thing I have heard a child of Venus say that makes any sense." Piper narrowed her eyes, forcing Jason to amend, "Present company excepted."

"It is?" blurted Annabeth, Nico, and Leo, all at the same time.

Jason shrugged. "Of course, a lot of the best troops Rome ever produced, were descendants of Venus. Ever wondered where the expression 'All's fair in love and war' came from?" They all, Annabeth included, remained skeptical, prompting Jason to add, "It began when Anaeus led the survivors of Troy to safety."

Leo, confused by the unfamiliar name, mocked, "Okay. That's one. Betcha can't name a second?"

Without hesitation Jason replied, "Marcus Antonius."

"Mark Antony," declared Annabeth and Piper.

"Who?" asked Nico and Leo.

"Yup," replied Jason. "The former Roman general and companion of Cleopatra."

Annabeth couldn't believe it, and reiterated, "_The_ Mark Antony...was a child of Venus?"

Again Nico and Leo asked, "Who?"

Jason, ignoring them, answered, "He was."

Leo and Nico harrumphed, crossed their arms, and returned to their food.

"I never knew that," admitted Piper.

"Me either," agreed Annabeth.

"Not surprising," he responded. "After all he was a Roman demigod." They all nodded, except for Nico and Leo. "And considering the nature of most Greek children of Venus..."

"Aphrodite," corrected Piper, growing evermore annoyed.

"Aphrodite," continued Jason, "it wouldn't seem obvious." He sighed, "What I mean to say is...well...the kids of Venus I've known, or heard of, were never the most physically gifted soldiers. Still they're usually quite formidable. You see, they take the legacy of Anaeus very seriously, and do their absolute best to honor it; especially, after Marcus embarrassed their mother so thoroughly."

That really captured Piper's interest. "How did he do that?"

"According to Lupa, the love goddess never approved of her son cavorting with...an Egyptian _witch_." After a brief pause, he added, "Whatever that means."

Before Piper and Annabeth could delve any deeper...Nico, tired of being lost and ignored, offered, "Anyone want to hear what I've learned about Percy?"

All at once, the four of them shifted their gazes to the young son of Hades. Annabeth, almost instantly, felt guilty she had let her little, light-hearted change of subject, enthrall her so completely. As a sort of unspoken apology, she implored, "Sorry Nico. Yes, please tell us what you've found out."

Seeing the look of desperation, so obviously plastered across her face, must have placated his Nico's sense of slight because he cut right to the chase, "Percy is somewhere just outside of San Francisco."

Jason and Piper rolled their eyes, and Leo smacked himself on the forehead. And although she did her best to hide it, Annabeth felt quite disappointed, even foolish.

"What?" demanded Nico.

"Dude, we already knew that," said Leo.

Nico looked puzzled. "You did?"

They all nodded.

Nico sounded crestfallen, "Oh." Then he sounded as if he were trying to perk himself up. "Thank the gods I didn't _really_ help that mortal escape."

Not wanting to make light of Nico's attempts to help, Annabeth asked, "By the way, who was this mortal, and how exactly did he know Percy?"

"Dunno," replied Nico. "I came across him while he was waiting in line to be judged." He grinned. "I do that sometimes, you know. Occasionally, I run into someone with a real interesting story, and stop to talk to them about it. They don't usually mind. Most everyone down there knows whose son I am, after their first few days of death. They like amusing me with stories, you know. They think it will help them get on my Dad's good side, before they go before the Tribunal." He paused, then lamented, "As if my Dad has time foe that kind of thing."

Annabeth pulled out her cellphone and checked the time. Their lunch-hour was nearly up. "Mind speeding things up a bit?"

Nico glanced down at the phone, and nodded. "Sure, sure. Anyways about this time last month, I over heard a guy...George, muttering to himself. It was something along the lines of, 'Stupid kids. I knew I should never have taken that job. And that Boden. Should have known something was off when I overheard him talking about how he was a resurrected King of Egypt. Lunatic was off his rocker, and what did his money get me. Dead, that's what.' Normally you don't hear recently dead mortals talking like that," explained Nico. "So, I asked him what happened. And when he saw how interested I got after he mentioned three teenagers, one of them a guy around sixteen with shoulder length black hair and sea-green eyes, he shut up until I agreed to get him out of there." He stopped and gazed at Annabeth, Piper, and Jason. "What? Don't tell me you knew about that too?"

Jason responded first. "What did the other two teenagers look like?"

Nico seemed perplexed, but replied, "Two girls, around the same age. One was about your height Annabeth with wavy dark-brown hair, and eyes to match. The other, based on what he said, was closer to your height Piper, tan skinned, with golden blond hair, and sapphire blue eyes."

"It can't be them," whispered Jason.

Piper seemed worried. "Can't be who?"

Jason shook his head and didn't answer.

While Piper was preoccupied with Jason, and Leo seemed, yet again, lost...Annabeth, feeling absolute certainty blooming, asked, "What can you tell me about this guy, Boden?"

Piper's eyes darted up to meet hers. It was only just dawning on Piper, what Annabeth was now getting at.

"To George, he seemed crazy," began Nico. "Hard to blame him for thinking that way, at the time. However, as it turns out, the guy really was an ancient Egyptian King, only his real name is Busiris. He disappeared from the Fields of Punishment about six months ago, and is presumably still at large. Though I doubt it, after what George told me happened to that Panama Canal Authority warehouse, the guy used for his base of operations."

"You were right," admitted Piper.

"Right?" asked Leo.

"About what?" said Nico.

All three of them were looking at her.

Annabeth smiled.

Piper rolled her eyes, "You memorized the number, didn't you?"

Jason coming out his own fog of concentration, glanced at Piper and asked, "What number?"

"That's what I'd like to know," complained Leo. "I've been lost for the last ten minutes."

Rather than waste time answering, Annabeth reached down, seizing her phone, anxious to redial John Marco's number. But before she could enter the first digit, Rachel Elizabeth Dare's name flashed across the display, and the phone began ringing. The moment she answered, luminescent green smoke began issuing forth from the receiver, accompanied by a hollow in-human voice.

In the shadow of Erebus, a choice you await

Two children of the Mother, soon shall awake

A treacherous decision, beware your mistake

Lest you seal forever, a lost Hero's fate

For the second time that day, the pavilion grew silent.


	8. Ch 7 Jason

Chapter 7

**Jason**

Perhaps more than anyone else in attendance, Jason couldn't believe what just transpired. As he sat transfixed by the words, or to be more precise _word_, the cellphone baring the unexpected - unwanted - prophecy died in an agonizing display of sparks and black smoke. In the vast, yet infinitesimal, eternity of silence and disbelief. Jason reached past the motionless form of Nico and grasped Annabeth's wrist.

Though his voice hardly constituted a whisper, Jason, beyond a shadow of doubt, declared, "I'm coming with you." And despite the words' softness, each one fell, like a hammer-stroke, violently shattering the stillness, which had so eerily enveloped them all.

"What was that!" yelled an unseen face in the crowd.

Another voice bellowed, "Was that a quest!"

"It couldn't have been!" countered yet another person. "The Oracle isn't at Camp!"

"Her cellphone!" piped still another person. "The prophecy came through the phone!"

Several, all at once, shouted in response, "Impossible!"

All around the gathered mob descended further and further into unfettered chaos. A steady drone of murmured theories, counter theories, and occasional screams of astonishment, drowned out any practical conversation. Even those that witnessed the unprecedented sight, Annabeth, Nico, Piper, and Leo seemed unable to escape the prophecy's spell. All the while he, alone, sat bewitched by that singular word...Erebus. Why Jason wondered, had prophecy delivered to a gathering of Greek demigods the Roman name of Tartarus...the Underworld?

Minute after minute past, until finally the conch sounded, signaling the end of the meal, setting off the real fighting.

Demigods rushed toward them, all pushing and shoving, in an attempt to reach Annabeth. Because amongst all the petty bickering and insults, one fact stood immutable, the daughter of Athena would be leading this quest. Jason watched as Annabeth, normally so composed and controlled, struggled to find her feet beneath the frenzied press of Camp Half-Blood's inhabitants.

Jason suspected her hesitancy, was born from worry. Rachel Dare, the Oracle of Camp Half-Blood, had issued prophecy. Irregardless of the method, the very act often left a prophetess drained of strength and energy. Such a side-effect, made it imperative to have attendants in place to watch over the soothsayer whilst she recovered her vitality. Although, unaware of the specifics, Jason knew the Oracle to be away attending a private boarding school. If her gift took command during the middle of a lesson, or in the presence of any mortals, the weakened young woman might be in danger.

Jason climbed up onto the table, placed the fingers of his right hand between his lips, and unleashed an earsplitting whistle. "Lunch is over, and the senior counselors have been ordered to Big House, for a counselors meeting,." He paused. "So I suggest the rest of you return to your regularly scheduled activities." He glanced around once more for emphasis. "That is all." No one moved. "Greeks," Jason muttered, hopping down.

Back at the academy, every single one of them would have saluted, then rushed away, eager to follow orders...or at least eager to avoid being punished for not following them. Still, he succeeded in planting a seed of doubt. Now they just needed a push, one that could not come from him, not directly at any rate.

Jason moved over beside Annabeth, leaned in next to her, and softly said, "We need to move, while they're still not sure what to do."

Annabeth nodded slightly, picked up the charred remains of her phone, and started walking toward the pavilion's steps. The display of decisiveness allowed his seed to take root. As each of them fell in behind Annabeth, the instinct to likewise leave the pavilion spread through the assemblage, growing with each step the five of them took. Until finally, the exodus of demigods began.

Along the meandering path, most of the campers began realizing, whatever may transpire next, it would have little to do with any of them. So, with each intersecting path they crossed, ever more demigods peeled away from the pack, miserable, but content that soon enough the mysteries of the smoking phone would be revealed.

When they found themselves trekking along the edge of the strawberry fields, the Big House well in sight, Piper, matching him stride for stride spoke. "What happened back there?"

Jason shrugged. "No clue. But I bet Chiron will have an idea."

Piper fell silent for several paces, then asked, "And you...do you always climb on top of tables like that?"

Jason looked away, pretending to rub a cramp from the back of his neck. "Sometimes," he lied. Never, within Lupa's domain, would a similar situation require such an unusual tactic.

"What do you think," she began. "Do you know why Annabeth seems so lost? Jason turned back to Piper. "She's practically crushing what's left that phone."

"Unfortunately, I can guess," he replied. "She's worried about her friend, the Oracle Rachel. You saw what happened when she gave prophecy this past December. The gift of foresight puts a lot of strain on the mortals that wield it. Even Gwen isn't immune to its draining effects, and she's a daughter of Apollo."

"Gwen?" inquired Piper. "I don't think you've mentioned her before."

"I haven't thought about it much," Jason half lied. "I've told you before. A good portion of my memories may have been returned, but something still isn't right."

Piper touched his forearm. "So you've said. But I still don't understand what you mean, by that?"

Jason sighed. "It's like looking at things through the lens of a camera, rather than my own eyes. I see all the people, places, and things I know or knew but, much of the time, the context remains unknowable." He looked into her soft iridescent eyes. "Imagine studying a picture of a stranger pointing a gun at something. You see the person, you see the weapon, but what you fail to see is the meaning. Is he joking? Is he practicing? Perhaps he's defending someone? And on the other hand...the image could be concealing far darker intentions." Jason forced a smile. "That's what it's like when I think to hard about my past. There are no more headaches, just disorientation and uncertainty."

For all her virtues, Piper, Jason knew, possessed a small yet formidable jealous streak. That is why, he was not surprised by her next question.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "If you haven't mentioned her before, and you try not to think about the past, why do you bring her up now?"

Jason was trapped. Hesitation on his part would, in Piper's mind, make Gwen seem like more than a close friend. Turning away and ignoring the question, would likewise give her the wrong impression, as would any overt attempt to conceal the truth. Piper could read a person's face, as if it were an open book. Unfortunately, revealing the truth would be unwise as well. Because, as the truth is want to do, it gives birth to an ever increasing number of questions. To explain why he suddenly recalled Gwen, would inevitably lead to an explanation of whom the other girl, Nico described, might be. Regretfully, the most out context person amongst Jason's addled past was Reyna.

"The blond girl Nico mentioned, matches Gwen's description," he answered.

Piper's eyes widened with apprehension then, almost as quickly, narrowed in contemplation. "So who was the other girl?"

"That's harder to say," admitted Jason, truthfully. "Brown hair and eyes describes a lot of girls, back at the academy."

Piper was to shrewd to accept the dodge. "But someone specific, comes to mind?"

He nodded. "Reyna. She and Gwen are good friends."

Piper quirked an eyebrow. "And Reyna is whom, exactly?"

Jason choked off the dry gulp, building in the back of his throat. The question carried more than one meaning, and brusque though her tone was, Piper's eyes betrayed an overabundance of vulnerability, belying her steadfast countenance. Piper was confident, with good reason, no soul residing within the borders of Camp Half-Blood could truly threaten the feelings that had so steadily grown between them. A flesh and blood person, such as Drew, she could deal with, but a shade, reaching through the doors of time, was a different matter entirely.

Again Jason wished to avoid the question, and again no such alternative existed. "Reyna..." he began.

"What's this about a quest?" inquired Chiron.

Jason, his eyes unwittingly pointing earthward, jerked his head up. Staring out from the landing ahead, sat Chiron, a very stern expression gracing his features.

Annabeth, in a rare unguarded moment, rushed up the steps and threw her arms around the chair-bound centaur's shoulders.

Chiron, after prying free his right arm, rubbed the distraught young girl's back. "It's alright Annabeth," assured the old teacher. "It's alright."

She released the bear of a hug, and showed her friend what remained of her phone. "Rachel," she espoused. "Rachel called me, but it wasn't her Chiron..."

Jason watched the Camp Counselor envelop the girl's shaking hand, between his own. He smiled, warmly. "I know. I just got off the phone with our young Oracle..."

"You did?" interrupted Annabeth. "How..."

"She's fine," he pronounced. "She woke up, only a few moments ago, alone, locked inside a broom closet, what remained of her cellphone clutched between her fingers."

"So she's okay?"

Chiron nodded. "Yes, a little confused, but yes, she's fine, and she's told me all about your quest."

From behind Chiron and Annabeth, the Big House screen-door swung outward, creaking as it did so, and through the opening Will Solace, Head Counselor of the Apollo, emerged. "She certainly did,"proclaimed Will. "We could hear the surprise in his voice all throughout the house."

Chiron rounded on the blond haired young man, "You could?"

Will flashed the overly bright smile, uniquely common to both the Greek and Roman children of Apollo. "Well, maybe not the _whole _house," he gibed. "But you could certainly hear the 'What!' all the way down the first floor hall." Will sighed. "I guess that means no lunch for me...right?"

Will was young for a senior counselor, only fourteen, a telling reminder of the toll the Titan War exacted from the members of Cabin Seven. Yet, despite his age, Will was not short, standing nearly six feet tall.

Chiron shook his head, "I'm sorry Will. I had hoped to excuse you, once the meeting got underway; however, that will not be possible now."

Will leaned against the inside of the door's frame. "That's alright. I'll ask Pamela and Derrick to save me something. My guys can go eat now?"

"Have all the injured been ministered?"

Will, by means of answer, gave Chiron a pointed look.

Jason couldn't blame him. Putting the needs of one's men, above the needs of himself, was the mark a good leader. Having been both witness to and recipient of magical treatment, the former Praetor, knew well the exhaustion which would be, at the moment, plaguing the children of Apollo. If all the wounded were now healed, it was only right that the healers be free to see to their own needs.

"I'll go let everyone know it's lunchtime," said Will, turning back into the house.

Chiron feigned a cough, "Heh-hmm...right...of course." Then he spun round his chair, once more, to address the rest of them. "Okay everyone, it's high time we convene this counselor's meeting. Everyone proceed to the Rec-Room, if you would, please."

As they began proceeding up the stairs, the increasingly familiar voice of Mitchell rose up. "Does that mean we can come?" he asked.

Jason, along with the other senior counselors, glanced back. Sure enough, Mitchell and four other young, assorted, demigods stood, anxiously awaiting Chiron's response.

Piper moved back down the stairs, "Mitchell," she sighed.

"Very well," permitted Chiron. "You may observe...just observe," he clarified.

The centaur's voice sounded warm, yet firm. Peering out of the corner of his eye, Jason's eyes confirmed what his ears had discerned. For whatever reason, be it Will's appearance, or something else entirely, Chiron - with war fastly approaching - deemed it time to start preparing the next group of heroes that would lead Camp Half-Blood, beyond the present and into the future.

A chill settled along the length of his spine, Jason wondered if anyone else knew the significance of what Chiron now intended.

Clarisse protested, "Chiron, they're not..."

He smiled. "Ms. La Rue, I suggest you hurry inside, we're already late in starting."

The daughter of Ares, face grew red with anger, but she said no more. Instead, she stormed past everyone disappearing into the blue farmhouse, dragging everyone else along in her wake.

Within a few moments, the entire Senior Counsel had gathered around the most unprofessional war table, Jason could imagine...the ping-pong table. It was an uncomfortable arrangement. The addition of new counselors, as evermore minor gods claimed their children, forced the ragtag group to squeeze in close together, in haphazard fashion. Jason shifted, desperate to dislodge Leo's bony elbow from against his ribs.

Leo moved his arm, "Sorry."

"Not your fault," he replied.

Across the crowded room, the five, unofficial, junior counselors, stood with their backs to the wall, grand smiles brightening their young faces, as they took in the absurd scene.

"_Just wait until it's your turn,"_ he thought.

"So, where shall we begin," asked Chiron.

"How about we start with the prophecy," suggested Will, still in the dark.

Chiron agreed, "An excellent suggestion, Will." He then turned to Annabeth, knuckling his beard all the while, "As the appointed leader, would you care to recite the words, for Mr. Solace?"

Her poise reclaimed, the daughter of Athena repeated...

In the shadow of Erebus, a choice you await

Two children of the Mother, soon shall awake

A treacherous decision, beware your mistake

Lest you seal forever, a lost Hero's fate

Again, the word Erebus, seized Jason's consciousness, urging him to proclaim he would be joining Annabeth on this quest.

"Who's Erebus?" asked Leo.

Expecting Annabeth or Piper to answer, Jason was surprised when Nico spoke.

"It's the pit. A primordial place, deep below the Earth's surface, where the essence of every vanquished monster or slain immortal is banished, until it can later be reborn." Nico, looking at him rather than Leo, added, "The ancient Greeks called it Tartarus."

At least someone, besides him, seemed to notice the odd turn of phrase.

Leo looked perplexed. "How can a pit have a shadow?"

"It's doesn't," answered the burly Butch, counselor, and sole occupant, of Cabin 14. "It means you'll be standing close enough to see the large black hole in the ground."

"Oh...I knew that," assured Leo, unconvincingly.

"So into the Underworld, it is," commented Connor. "Who do you think the two children and Mother are?" asked Travis.

"Giants," yawned Clovis, son of Hypnos.

Lou Ellen, daughter of Hecate added, "And Gaea is the the Mother."

Pollux, eldest son of Dionysus, questioned, "Two more? How many are there supposed to be exactly."

"Twelve," responded Miranda, daughter of Demeter. "One for each god of the Pantheon."

"Thirteen," corrected Nico. "Don't forget about my Dad."

Miranda looked abashed, "Sorry."

"And who is your Dad?" wondered Leo, aloud.

Piper answered, before Nico, "It's Hades, Lord of the Underworld. That's your Dad?"

Nico didn't reply. He just nodded, vigorously.

Leo whistled, long and low. "That's why the ghost's think you can help them out," he realized.

"Yeah."

Clarisse, sounding giddy, announced, "Looks like whoever goes down there will get to fight two Giants. Sounds like fun."

Jason couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did she really just say fighting _two_ Giants sounded like fun? He blinked, rapidly, recalling just how little _fun_ it had been facing Encelaedus then later Porphyrion. The experience nearly killed him once, and he was pretty sure it did kill a second time. How could anyone consider that to be fun? He suddenly, found himself reconsidering his choice to hang around the kids of Cabin Five.

Clarisse's statement also brought up another issue.

"Who's going?" shouted someone, abruptly.

Jason thought the anonymous crier came from the group of five, but he couldn't be sure. In any case, the "whom" was of little importance, the question..._was_.

The room erupted in a flurry of shouts, pleas, explanations, and contradictions.

Several counselors claimed they should be chosen, solely because they weren't before, the loudest of them were the Stoll Twins, which was odd. Others shouted how they could help, _if _Annabeth agreed to bring them along, Will, his healing, and Miranda, her connection to the Earth, spearheaded that group. And still others, Clarisse mostly, profaned their experience and skill in combat. Even Mitchell, in spite of Chiron's earlier order, threw his name into the hat.

Jason, his conviction harder than stone, rose from his seat, but instead of shouting, shoving, or arguing, he simply looked Annabeth in the eye and, as he did before, calmly declared, "I'm coming with you."

For several long seconds Jason stared into those storm gray eyes, while Annabeth mentally assessed his request. Then, just as the daughter of Athena parted her lips, prepared to pass judgment, a hand, colder than ice, seized his chest, freezing his heart. Jason looked on, helplessly watching Annabeth speak, yet not hearing a word she said.

A woman's voice, distant, calm, softer than warm velvet, but cold as the hand encircling his heart, breathed, _"Your mistake is made."_

When the hand withdrew and the voice fled, sound, deafening in its intensity, returned. Standing beside him, Piper proclaimed, "If Jason's going..." She took his hand. "So am I!"

"Me too," agreed Leo, adding his own proclamation to Piper's.

One of the five junior counselors, a girl named Etney, countered, "Leo, you can't go! Who's going to oversee Festus's refit if you leave?"

Then everything started shaking. Everyone standing swayed and clung to those next to them. Anyone still seated clutched desperately to the chair upon which they sat. And the room grew silent, except for the Jaguar growling in the room down the hall.

"If anyone's going on a quest to the Underworld..." challenged Nico, with a defiant grin. "It's me.".


	9. Ch 8 Nico

Chapter 8

**Nico**

His mind was spinning. Summoning an earthquake turned out to be the worst thing he could do. So why did he do it? Because he thought it would look cool. Cool...that was him, alright. Mr. Impressive. Mister So-Dizzy, he could hardly stay upright in his flimsy lawn-chair. Mr. Goofy-Grin, that's right he could feel the one raised corner of his lip. He might as well go ahead and complete the effect, and fall out of the chair. It would serve him right, shaking the house's foundations in his weakened state...so stupid.

When, at last, he finished bashing his own ego, he, ever so gently, swiveled his head around the room, awaiting the inevitable roar of laughter. However, every time his eyes met another person's, they looked away. Did he really look that foolish?

"No takers?" he asked, incredulously.

All around, people shook their heads...even Clarisse. One of the few not shaking his, or her, head was Jason. The hard edged child of Rome stood stock still, as though he were frozen within a block of ice. Had he even felt the ground quake?

After several long seconds, someone must have hit Jason's play button. Those electric blue eyes fluttered, followed by the imagined cracking of his neck muscles. Nico watched him look to Annabeth. He could practically hear the guys jaws whine as they parted.

"Good enough for me," Jason croaked.

Nico was amazed, but he wasn't the only one. A dumbstruck Piper, also couldn't believe what she just heard. "What?" he asked and she demanded.

A twinge of guilt touched Jason's eyes, when he turned back to Piper, "I'm sorry, but...it makes sense."

It took a moment, but the meaning of Jason's words managed to push themselves through Nico's ears to his brain. He would be joining the quest. He would be _joining_ the _quest_! Nico wanted to jump up, parade around, and shout triumphantly with joy, but his legs wouldn't allow it. If he hopped up now he would just fall over. He was sure of it. So he settled for the strong and silent approach, crossing his arms and scowling. It was a real strain to maintain the frown. That was until, Piper opened her mouth...again.

She practically dared Annabeth. "What do you think?"

The merry-go-round inside Nico's head ground to a halt. He forgot. Annabeth was the quest leader. She would get final say, and unlike Jason, she knew all about his past mistakes. His heart sank. No way, would Annabeth agree to it. He didn't even bother looking, when the daughter of Athena finally spoke.

"Nico..."

He still didn't glance up.

Her voice was uncertain, but strong, "You better not make me regret this."

Against his better judgment, hope started to bloom.

She took a breath. "Jason's right. You're in."

He threw his arms up, overbalanced the lawn-chair, and toppled heels-over-head backwards onto the hardwood floor. A mixture of giggles, groans, and sighs made its way across the room, but he didn't care. He was going on the quest. Finally, he would have a chance to help Percy, he would have a chance to truly balance the scales.

"Will someone please assist Mr. Di Angelo," requested Chiron. Two huge arms descended, grabbing the back of his flimsy chair, and heaved him upright. "Thank you, Butch."

Nico beamed at the tattooed child of Iris, "Appreciate it."

Chiron, looking dubious with his two index fingers steepled, ahem-ed, "Yes...well, now that the matter of our three heroes..."

"Chiron," interrupted Piper. "Is there any way for a fourth person to join?"

He shook his head, "I'm afraid not."

"But why?"

The old centaur sighed. "My dear, three is a sacred number. It blesses those that undertake the dangers of such a journey, and provides them with a small measure of divine protection. If Annabeth chooses to allow two, one, or none to accompany her...that is her choice. However, for the good of those venturing forth, I will not condone a fourth member." He looked sympathetic, "I am sorry, but you must remain here."

A lot of the fire went out of Piper...but not all. "Why?" she pleaded. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Nico's giddiness evaporated. He knew exactly what the _worst_ could be. And though, his sister's words had helped him to forgive Percy, some of the anger from her passing still smoldered deep within his heart. And his voice conveyed every ounce of that pain, that anger.

"Someone could die," accosted Nico. "Just like my sister died."

Piper withdrew even more. "Your...I-I didn't mean..."

"No one ever does," he snapped.

"Nico," reprimanded Annabeth.

He crossed his arms and shut his mouth, still angry but not wanting to give Annabeth a reason to change her mind.

Clarisse, enjoying the sudden display of hostility, submitted, "And don't forget what happened the last time either."

Nico and Annabeth both directed hateful gazes at the daughter of the war-god. For Annabeth the quest was a painful, confusing, memory. Conversely, Nico's feelings centered around embarrassment. He, a child of Hades, had unwittingly allowed a _ghost_ to twist and manipulate his anger, nearly to the ruin of everyone.

Piper, hesitated, clearly afraid of the answer. "What...happened?"

"There were four of us: Percy, myself, Percy's brother Tyson, and Grover" began Annabeth. "We journeyed deep the into Labyrinth. It was impossible to keep track of time down there, but the maze disoriented and separated us. Percy and I followed a small mechanical spider, which led us to one of Hephaestus's abandoned forges, only it wasn't abandoned. Telchines, demon fish-dogs working for Kronos, had taken up residence there. Then after gathering what intel we could, the two of us tried to sneak back out. We were cut off by the demons. Percy distracted them so I could escape...that's why Mount Saint Helens erupted last year. That was the first time he..." Annabeth, stopped, steadied herself, then proceeded, "he vanished for a couple of weeks, and ultimately Kronos arose."

"That sure was a tragedy," mocked Clarisse. "Who knows what would have happened, if less scrupulous demigods had been involved."

Jason and Piper furrowed their brows, curious. Annabeth and Nico clenched their fists, outraged.

"After all," goaded Clarisse, "it's not like conflicting loyalties or misguided grudges ever play parts in such things." Clarisse smirked, "Right Wise-Girl...Ghost-Boy?"

Nico, seething, began to finger the hilt of his concealed sword.

Ghost-Boy? Oh, that's original he thought. As if such a hulking excuse for a _girl_ had any right to be calling others names. What was her problem, anyways? Not that Clarisse ever really needed a reason to have a problem with someone. Was she trying to start a fight? If so, he was more than willing to take up the challenge, even with his reserves so low.

A few seats away, Annabeth looked to be pondering violence of her own. If the red-fringed counselor of Cabin Five wanted a fight. She would certainly get one, if she didn't shut-up.

Chiron had other plans.

Before anyone else could say anything, Chiron interceded, "Clarisse, that is quite enough! There has been enough violence today!"

Clarisse scowled and looked away. When her gaze receded, so too did Nico's anger and desire to fight.

Chiron glanced around the room. "That also goes for the rest of you. Do I make myself clear?" No one argued. "Yes...well, now that that's settled. I suggest we adjourn." Everyone stared at him. "There were a few other things I wished to discuss; however, given this rather unexpected and _unpleasant_ turn of events, we shall table those issues for a later, more appropriate, time."

"Speaking of time," yawned Clovis, amazingly still awake. "Don't these things usually happen around a solstice?" He stretched his arms. "So why now? The Summer Solstice isn't for another four months, and the Spring..." He paused, taking a really deep, yawning, breath, "Equinox is still a month away."

"An excellent question," admitted Chiron, impatiently, "And one I am sure you will eagerly discuss amongst yourselves." The old centaur rubbed his heavy eyes. "That is to say, it is a question I ask you to consider later...after you have each returned to your regular activities."

Chiron's unnatural melancholy caused everyone to falter. Though, he had had little interaction with the ancient teacher over the last couple of years, Nico couldn't recall ever seeing him so desolate. Why was the old centaur's calm, unflappable, outlook suddenly so choppy and sensitive? Had the earlier fight disturbed him more than anyone realized? Had it been that bad? Since he hadn't heard of anyone dying, Nico thought it had been little more than a battle royale between one or two cabins. Such things weren't unheard of at Camp Half-Blood. From what he knew, the Camp's most popular event – Capture the Flag – was actually more of a brawl than a game.

"I have heard no chairs scraping on wood, so I assume that all of you are still here," commented Chiron, his hand still covering his eyes. "What is it? Have I forgotten anything?"

Annabeth spoke, "We need to discuss transportation."

Chiron dropped his hand, "Ah, but I had forgotten, you are of course right Annabeth." He paused, "Does anyone have any suggestions?"

Though the question had been structured to invite debate, Nico got the distinct impression Chiron was really only addressing him.

"Well, I think I should talk to Annabeth first, but if you can get us to Central Park...," Nico turned to the daughter of Athena, "I can get us started from there."

"The Path of Orpheus," reasoned Annabeth.

Nico nodded.

"The Camp can certainly see you that far," acknowledged Chiron. "I shall contact Mr. D immediately, so as to determine which means of travel, land or air, will be the more acceptable. Now again, if you would all return to your activities?"

Once outside, the assembly disbanded quickly.

Leo was the first amongst the five of them to leave. "If you guys figure out what went down in there with Chiron, stop by the Bunker and let me know," he had said. When they asked why they couldn't just inform him at dinner, he explained"I've been missing for two hours. I'll probably be up all night fixing and redoing all the newbies work."

Then he hurried off.

After Leo rounded a turn in the path leading away from the Big House, Piper brought up Chiron's unusual behavior as well. "I've never seen him like that, Chiron. What do you think is bothering him?"

That's when Jason finally, and in full, explained his earlier conversations with the ancient teacher. Nico was astounded by the scope of the battle that had taken place only moments before his arrival, and he was more than a little apprehensive about having volunteered to go on a journey with the guy, glitchy powers not withstanding.

"So a wolf among lions," remarked Annabeth. "Makes sense, sort of."

Nico sneered, "More like jackals if you ask me. What do you think got Clarisse's undies in a twist, anyway?"

"Pressure," responded Annabeth. "My guess is her Dad is on her case again. At least that's usually the reason, whenever Clarisse gets like this. It was that way back whenever she was chosen to lead the quest to recover the Golden Fleece, and it was that way - shortly thereafter - until she slayed that giant Drakon near the end of the war. Ares, is probably back on her case again to join a quest, now that the Giants and Gaea are awakening." She paused, "I bet all the gods are secretly pressuring their children to do something."

That certainly explained why some of the less - combat oriented - Counselors were suddenly climbing over one another to hitch a ride to Tartarus.

Nico leaned against one the post supporting the Big House's wrap around porch, "If she wanted to go on the quest so bad, she should have spoken up right after I did. Instead of letting you two decide I could come...what?"

All three of them were looking, well he didn't know exactly what they looked like. The staring was obvious, but the frozen expressions were just to jumbled. An eyebrow quirked here, nostril flared there, a quivering jaw hanging slightly open, and those universally wide eyes...you would think he had just declared water was wet, the sky was blue, and the grass was.

"How could anyone expect to make an argument at that point?" pointed out Jason.

"Hey..." rebuffed Piper, slugging her boyfriend in the arm, "I did."

Jason, rubbed his shoulder and smiled, "No. You argued, you didn't make an argument."

Piper rolled her eyes, but remained silent, conceding the point.

That was a relief. Nico hadn't been sure the guy knew how to smile. It was a good omen. Hopefully, they could stand to be around each other and not get drawn into a death match. What's more, he really had looked intimidating. The shake the house idea hadn't been so stupid, after all. Now he just needed to keep it looking that way.

"So...what about the thing Clovis was talking about?" he asked.

"The Celestial event," corrected Piper.

Undeterred, he nodded, "Yeah, that thing."

"Don't worry about it," responded Annabeth. "While it's true most quests tend to occur around the solstices, they..."

"March First," offered Jason, interrupting her. "It's the modern day equivalent of the Roman New Year."

Roman New Year? Well, that made sense. He guessed. It certainly explained the whole Erebus instead of Tartarus debacle, and why Jason, unlike the rest of them, managed to keep his head straight when the phone looked like it would explode. The guy's mind must have instantly keyed on it.

Piper gasped, "March First...that's a week from now. Even if you make all your preparations today, that only leaves you six days to get wherever you need to go."

"It'll be fine," assured Jason. "We only had four days last time."

"We had a mechanical dragon to fly us then," countered Piper. "It sounds like you'll be walking this time."

"Maybe...maybe not..."

Nico's mind wandered away at that point. Six days would be more than enough time. The Underworld was a big place, but it was also very compact – just like all matter the further down you went - what might take three days to walk above ground, could take less than a day beneath it. Besides, he had a plan. They wouldn't be walking anywhere. They were going to be taking a boat.


	10. Ch 9 Gwen

Chapter 9

**Gwen**

"What do you mean...I can't come?" demanded Percy.

"_Oh, in the name of Jupiter,_" thought Gwen.

Why did she have to ask him about transportation, _before_ she explained the whole situation? Better yet, why didn't her _Father_ tell him he couldn't come. That would have saved herself a lot of heartache and grief. Gwen sighed. Well, at least she had had the sense to wait until after the Officers' meeting to bring it up.

"It's what my Father told me, Percy." she confessed. "You're the _Praetor_, and it's time you started acting like it."

Reyna, leaning against the far corner in Percy's office, barked out a laugh. "Good luck with that Gwen."

The daughter of Apollo narrowed her eyes at her friend, the Prefect. She wasn't about to agree with Reyna's sentiment, but she knew full well the girl was right. She pretty much told her Dad the same thing; the second he informed her Percy was forbidden from going. All the same, she didn't appreciate Reyna voicing those thoughts aloud. Worse, she knew what was now coming next.

"Exactly," Percy pronounced, "I'm the Praetor. If anyone should get to decide who can or can't come, it should be me."

Gwen softened her glower, and silently pleaded with Reyna to intervene.

Always perceptive, Reyna just shook her head – that annoying grin never leaving her face, "Oh no. I've been dealing with this for the last two months. It's time someone else took a turn."

A less polite person would probably point out the fact, Reyna was the one to nominate Percy to the office to begin with – not Gwen. Instead she just rolled her eyes, before glancing to the two others standing with them inside Praetor Jackson's office. Bobby, not wishing to put himself between to senior officers, pretended not to notice her imploring stare. While Dakota, on the other hand, seemed to inwardly laugh at her plight. That was probably for the best. The son of Mercury – having appearently found a kindred spirit – had done nothing but encourage Percy's rebellious streak.

"Scouts," she muttered, beneath her breath. "Percy," she implored, "please understand, it's not just Apollo refusing you, but Lupa as well – it's for the sake of the Legion."

She watched Percy cross his arms and attempt to lean back into his leather desk chair; however, the seat was attached to a swivel – rather than accept its occupants weight graciously – the chair rolled to the right unbalancing Percy, forcing him to grip the side of the desk or risk falling backwards to the floor. Once he managed to regain control, the Praetor leaned forward – cupping his chin atop his intertwined fingers – and the unyielding scowl returned.

Gwen grinned, in spite of herself.

"Legion," scoffed Percy. "That's all I've heard for the last couple of months, and I'm sick of it."

"Shouldn't have accepted the job then," commented Bobby, off-handedly.

Percy's ears twitched, "What was that?"

The First Spear, maintaining a neutral expression, replied, "Nothing, Sir."

Her grin turned into a full-on smile. During Percy's first two weeks, he and Bobby's relationship had been borderline violent. Then, over the following few weeks, it had simmered down to a mere point of prickly contention. And against all odds, the two somehow managed – in the last month - to form a tenuous friendship, based around the only thing they had in common. They both hated _Praetor Jackson_.

Percy's voice was gruff, but his eyes radiated amusement, "I thought so."

Bobby's mouth curled ever so slightly at the corners, "Of course, Sir."

Gwen stepped forward, placed her hands on the opposite side of Percy's desk, looked him square in the eye, and reiterated Bobby's remark, "If you wanted to go on quests, then you shouldn't have taken the job."

The two of them held their ground, waiting for the other to blink first. After a few seconds, Gwen could feel her face warming, as well as see Percy's cheeks reddening. She couldn't help but notice, the rosy hue – very nicely – brought out the green of his eyes.

Percy flinched first. He always flinched first.

Looking at Reyna, he accused, "It's not like I had a choice."

"You could have turned it down," she fired back.

"Exactly," agreed Booby. "I've opted out of several promotions."

"Come...on, guys," spoke Dakota, coming to Percy's defense. "What choice did he really have?" Dakota looked at Reyna, "For Elysia's sake...you called him out in the front of the entire Academy. He had to accept."

"Thank you, Dakota," said Percy. "I'm glad someone understands where I'm coming from."

The off-handed remark stung. She and Percy had talked at length about his _promotion_, and he knew she understood exactly "where he was coming from". She sat down, in the chair across from him, knowing, at the moment, he wouldn't admit it. First, he probably hadn't given any thought to the notion, wound up as he was. Second, even if he did stop and think about what he just said; he couldn't say so aloud. To do so, would weaken his precarious argument and strengthen her own.

"But..." lamented Dakota, "I also understand their points too."

That raised her spirits, and dampened Percy's.

Dakota continued, "Just because you didn't have a choice, doesn't mean the student-body President suddenly gets to run the school. Lupa wouldn't have allowed it, even without Apollo's restriction."

"I'm the one that knows the boatman," pointed out Percy.

She blinked. Gwen hadn't expected him to pullout his trump-card so soon. It spoke to his desperation. Because there were still a few other things he could have brought up. Percy was perhaps one of only a handful of people to have journeyed to the underworld on multiple occasions. Such experience, limited though it was, gave him a qualification no one at Hadrian could match. If not for regulations – and her Father's warning – she would have chosen him, without a seconds thought.

Gwen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was time to drown the last of his objections.

"From what you've told us," she began, "you don't really know Charon. You simply bribed him for passage across the Styx."

"Well..."

Gwen shook her head, "Percy, I would ask you to come, but I can't." She swallowed, the next thing she would be saying scared even her. "I don't care about the Academy's rules. If Dad hadn't specifically said you couldn't come...right now, I would be in Lupa's office arguing on your behalf."

The room grew silent. Everyone turned to stare at her, except the blushing Praetor. By now they all knew she _liked_ Percy, and they also knew he cared about her. Still, none of them would have thought her capable of breaking a core principle of the Academy – other than Hazel. However, her feisty friend wasn't here at the moment, so that didn't...

Someone knocked on the door.

They all turned in time to see Hazel step inside the office.

"So what've I missed?" she asked, instantly dispelling the room's tension.

"Nothing much," replied Dakota, smiling. "Though, I am pretty sure we're on the verge of killing each other."

Gwen cut her eyes at the poor excuse for humor.

Hazel just giggled, "Good then I haven't missed the best part. Who's got the popcorn?"

Percy cut-in, "Popcorn? No...that's only for the audience. You're part of the production."

Hazel tilted her head in an amused way, "Really? What's my part?"

"You're going to help convince the others I should go on this quest."

Hazel openly laughed, "And why should I do that?"

That hadn't been the answer Gwen thought to hear. Hazel normally liked stirring the pot – within reason.

"Because you're cute and unlike everybody else you like helping out the boss."

Gwen rolled her eyes.

"Flattery will get you nowhere – this time – Sir," Hazel sighed. "If I can't go...you can't."

Flirting aside, Gwen wanted to hug her, but stopped after registering Hazel's last couple of words.

"What do you mean...you can't go?" disparaged Gwen.

Hazel closed the door, shutting away any unwanted ears. "Lupa's punishment," she explained. "Me, Emily, Michael, and Jessica are all to report to the Ranger's Station tomorrow."

"The Ranger's Station? What for?" asked Bobby.

"Special training assignment," she sighed. "Ranger Edmunds will be taking us out on a four day cross-country survival trek..."

Gwen, and the rest of them, winced.

Julia Edmunds was not someone they, Bobby included, wished to be stuck with for a prolonged period of time – especially, not alone in the wilderness. Hazel would be lucky if she could walk back to the Academy under her own power.

"Lupa feels it will bolster our flagging since of urgency," Hazel finished. "I may never use shampoo again!"

A couple of them blurted, "Shampoo?"

Hazel nodded, "I was in the shower, lathering up my hair, when Lupa sounded the howl. I practically jumped out of the tub – nearly breaking my neck on the tile floor – and ran to my footlocker. By the time I dug out my dress uniform, the suds had worked their way down into my eyes. I spent about five minutes washing them out... then another two rinsing out my hair."

Dakota laughed, "You were late because of..."

Bobby elbowed him in the ribs, "Could've happened to anybody."

Gwen repressed the urge to smile. Bobby, little by little, was becoming increasingly more obvious. Why Dakota, Hazel, and Percy hadn't begun picking up on it – she couldn't fathom.

"Right...right," wheezed Dakota. "Sorry, Hazel."

The daughter of Ceres shrugged, "S'okay." Hazel moved over beside her, "It's pretty obvious you haven't had a chance to choose anyone yet," she said eying Percy. "Got anyone in particular in mind?"

Gwen stopped and thought about it for a second or two, before nodded "I do," she admitted.

"Who," inquired Percy, still sounding hopeful.

Faced with such persistence Gwen couldn't help but grin, "Not you...obviously."

Percy turned his head away, sulking.

Gwen looked at Hazel. "I was going to ask you," she said, "But that isn't happening now..."

"Sure it can," amended Dakota. "Why, just before Hazel knocked you told us..."

Bobby elbowed him again.

Hazel's brow furrowed with intrigue, "What...what did she tell you?"

Dakota glanced over at over Bobby; wondering if he should dare to open his mouth again. Meanwhile, Gwen was curious too. Dakota could be persistent to the exclusion of everything – when he chose to be. Would that stubbornness win out, or would his own sense of self-preservation? A thought accord to her. Could she afford to find out?

"I told them that if my Dad hadn't told me Percy couldn't be allowed to come..." answered Gwen, potentially sparing Dakota's ribs, "I would be in the Consul's office right now, petitioning his inclusion."

Hazel's eyes brightened, but amazingly she held her tongue. It was rare times like these Gwen knew exactly why the two of them had become best-friends.

"Well Percy's definitely out," spoke Reyna. "And...it sounds like Hazel is too. I don't think it would be a good idea to go to the Consul right now...for any reason. So is there anyone else you would like to choose?"

"There is," assured Gwen. "In fact you are the other person I had in mind, Reyna."

"Me...Why?"

Gwen nodded, "We worked well together on the last quest, you are also one of the Academy's most capable warriors, plus your encyclopedic knowledge of...well everything, is sure to come in handy too."

Reyna was taken aback. "But I'm the Prefect," she claimed. "I can't go."

Gwen shook her head, "Regulations forbid the Academy's senior most officer from taking part in quests. Fortunately, you no longer fit that description."

"So the person that chained me to this desk can go," complained Percy. "And I can't?"

"Don't whine," harped Reyna. "I can't go either."

"So you're in trouble too?" inquired Hazel.

Reyna shook her head, "No...there's just no way I'm leaving this Academy exposed to Praetor Jackson's every whim. Don't laugh...if I left there wouldn't be an Academy to come back to."

Gwen wasn't so sure about that. After all, Hazel wasn't the only one leaving for a few days. With the Anti-Jackson Coalition gone, things were sure to run smoother around Hadrian...at least for awhile.

After her giggles subsided, Hazel commented, "That's too bad. We were just a couple of yeses away from creating the first all girls quest."

Gwen hadn't thought about that, but it certainly could have been true, and – provided they all lived – it would definitely have been a fun story to recount one day.

"Okay, Ladies," declared Dakota. "You've twisted our arms." He bowed, " The First Spear and I would be more than happy to accompany you...Tribune Hudson, on this dangerous journey."

"Excuse me," retorted Bobby, indignantly.

"Send me a postcard," mused Percy, ruefully.

"What?" shouted the girls, perplexed.

Where had that come from? Not that Bobby and Dakota were terrible candidates. In fact, they were next on her list – and probably should have been higher. Still, why was Dakota so eager? He hadn't acted anything of the sort during the meeting or present discussion.

Dakota glanced between them. "Is it really such a surprising idea?" he asked.

"No," said the girls, shaking their heads.

"Yes," pronounced Bobby, nodding.

Percy just shrugged.

"Why is that Bobby?" queried Dakota.

That was a good question. She certainly saw nothing wrong with either, or both, of them joining her for a stroll through the Underworld.

"Well...It's...You know," Bobby fumbled.

No, none of them knew, but she certainly did want to know. Which, was why Gwen was more than happy when Dakota pressed the issue.

"Come on, Bobby...out with it"

The normally confident First Spear's eyes darted around the room. Reminding her of an animal – afraid for its life – caught in a trap.

After a couple of heartbeats his eyes closed, and he stammered, "You know...if we're gone...umm...who's going to keep Emily...Emily...yes,...Emily and the other troublemakers in-line."

Everyone laughed, revealing to Bobby the obvious err in his statement...his plea.

"You don't have to worry about that Big Guy," placated Hazel. "Julia is going to be keeping a close eye on them...I'll make sure of it."

"Ri...right," Bobby stuttered, red-faced.

It was obvious then why Bobby wished not to go. Gods, the guy really needed to tell Hazel how he felt.

"Well if that's settled," asserted Dakota, "then I think everything is all set."

"Oh, no it isn't," retorted Gwen. "You've been mum about volunteering until just now. Why are you suddenly so gong-ho?"

Dakota shrugged, "I thought that would be obvious. Percy was going to do his best to join. I figured you would ask Hazel, and Reyna – after finally putting the kibosh on the Praetor. So I didn't see any point. But now, Hazel can't join. Reyna is Erebus bent to keep Percy walking the straight-and-narrow..."

"Hey!" bellowed the Praetor.

As if deaf, Dakota continued, unfettered, "and there is no chance the three upstarts will be causing trouble now. Like Hazel just said, that frees the two of us up to go on this suicidal excursion." Dakota grinned, "It sure sounds like fun doesn't it, Bobby?"

Bobby's answered sounded hesitant, "Yeah..."

"Fantastic, then it's settled," trumpeted Dakota. "With your permission of course, Gwen."

With her permission? If that wasn't a joke, she didn't know what a joke was. How could she say no now – not that she wanted to. And although, she was the only that could find the fountain, it wouldn't hurt to have someone with Dakota's abilities along for the ride. Additionally, Bobby would be a great asset when things went south – because something always did on quests. It was as agreeable a setup as she could have wished for.

Gwen overlapped her arms and sighed, "If Bobby agrees...how could I say no."

Hazel proclaimed, "Of course he agrees! When he gets back he'll finally have a new story tell." The daughter of Ceres smiled, "No offense Muscles, but the tale of the Trojan Sea Monster is getting a tad bit old."

Hazel's broad smile and playful demeanor, left Gwen wondering if perhaps her friend knew more about Bobby's feelings than she cared to acknowledge.

"Alright," agreed Bobby, grinning. "When we get back...I'll tell you everything."

"Excellent," said Dakota. "Now how are we going to get to the Underworld?"

Percy, sounding miserable, responded, "Like I said before...do any of you know any good tailors?"

They all just stared at him, dumbfounded.

"I know...I know," he conceded. "It sounds crazy, but I'm telling you the truth...I swear."


	11. Ch 10 Jason

Chapter 10

**Jason**

He silently slipped inside the ornate doorway, eager to put the day's events behind him. Jason shivered. As usual, his Father's cabin was cold and empty, which suited his present mood. Ever since the ending of the counselor's meeting, Jason had continually replayed his day's mistakes – searching for the meaning of the icy words.

Absently he made his way to the secluded alcove he and Thalia had chosen for their sleeping area – ignoring the glowering statue of his Father's Greek-form. Normally, he would have stopped and asked if, as Zeus, the figure were his stepfather. The absurdity of the idea, often brought a fleeting smile to his face – regardless, of his dark moods – but not tonight.

"An estranged Uncle is more accurate, I think."

Jason froze.

"Though, I must admit the question requires more thought than I have the time to ponder, presently." Hera smirked, "How are you Jason?"

Jason came to attention and saluted the Queen of Olympus, "I'm well, Ma'am."

The white clad Lady, genuinely smiled, "Always so polite." She sighed, "If only our Greek children were so pleasant. Perhaps you could teach them?"

Jason's stance eased, "I think not, Majesty."

Hera, who had been standing at the feet of her husband's image, quietly made her way over to one of the Cabin's empty bunks and sat down.

"You're probably right," she admitted.

Jason, mirroring Hera's actions, walked to the bed opposite the goddess, and likewise sat.

He looked to the floor, "I know I am, Ma'am."

The bed suddenly sagged and a hand softly came to rest on his shoulder. He glanced over. Hera had soundlessly crossed the room and seated herself beside him.

"Do not dwell upon the battle," she assuaged. "You were simply following your instincts..."

"But I..."

She placed a gentle finger against his lips, "That was not your doing, Jason." She paused for emphasis, before adding, "It was mine."

Jason craned his neck and stared at the alternate form of his stepmother. Never before had he witnessed a god or goddess show such compassion, nor admit to making a mistake. Would his patron Juno, be so gentle? He doubted it.

"Your Majesty, why are you here?"

The goddess's sincere smile returned. "I came for several reasons," she replied. "Some you would be able to guess..."

"The quest," he surmised.

She nodded, "Others...well, needless to say, I seldom have the opportunity to act as a mother is want to do."

That piqued his interest. Over the millennium since Kronos first fell, Hera had developed a reputation for _tough _love. She had mostly ignored Mars, threw an infant Vulcan off the side of Olympus, and – most notably – tried to kill her stepson Hercules, more times than he could count. Based on firsthand knowledge, Jason knew Juno to be none the kinder, where mothering was concerned.

Hera's smiled diminished, "I know my reputation well Jason. And in some, _most_, cases it is well deserved, but this is not one of those times."

If that were true...then this, by far, had been the strangest day of his young life – and that was saying something.

"Forgive me, Ma'am...I did not..."

She shook her head, "There's nothing to forgive."

Jason wasn't sure how to respond, so he instead asked a question, "And what of the quest, Milady?"

Hera leaned forward and rested chin-to-palm and elbow-to-knee, "Back to business then. I have come bearing you a gift."

"A gift?" he puzzeled.

She grinned, "Yes, my dear stepson, a gift. Courtesy of both myself and my alternate persona Juno."

If not for the inclusion of Juno's name the old addage, "beware Greeks bearing gifts" would have immediately sprang to mind. Instead Jason, arched a brow, curious to learn more.

"And what gift am I to receive?" he inquired.

Hera stood, and atop her outstretched hands there appeared an unassuming leather belt, sporting a simple bronze buckle – engraved with an eagle insignia. The goddess shifted her stance, placing the hand closest to buckle before him, in a manner similar to presenting a sword.

Jason stared at her.

Hera rolled her eyes, before encouraging, "Go on, grip the buckle tightly."

Knowing godly gifts often came in casual forms, he acquiesced, and the instant his fingers settled over the buckle's rounded edge – the belt stiffened. In less than a beat of his heart, the supple leather morphed into a glowing bronze blade and leather-bound hilt, measuring a good thirty-six inches in length. As his eyes roamed up and down the swords fine edges Hera spoke...

"I'm afraid, it's not as flashy as your former weapon," she began. "However it is vastly more stable."

He looked at her.

"That is the advantage of Celestial Bronze. You can break this weapon without of fear of killing yourself," she explained, "and afterwards it can be reforged."

"Thank you," he spoke, sincerely.

She graciously replied, "You're welcome, Jason."

He rose, then moving to the center of the room, began swinging his new blade – testing the weight and balance. The swords width was more narrow than a the standard gladius, and similarly longer. The hilt, like the blade, was a simple and unadorned oval design, measuring roughly four inches long and two inches across. The grip was soft enough to conform nicely to the ridges of his fingers, yet solid enough to resist jarring his hand during combat. Likewise, the rounded pommel was perfectly set and counterbalanced the blade nicely. All-in-all it was an excellent instrument of war.

Jason did however, have one issue, "How do I get it to change back?"

Hera stepped forward, pointing to the sword's tip, "You simply slide this into either of the first loops of your jeans. The sword will do the rest."

Jason did as instructed, and sure enough. The sword began to transform back into a belt, and it proceeded to guide itself around his waist and through the loops. Once the circuit was complete, the end of the belt slid beneath the buckle and fastened clasped itself closed.

Jason smiled.

"Now there are two ways to remove it," Hera explained. "One is to grip the buckle in the same manner with which you took the belt from me, and draw it out like a sword. The second method is to grab the buckle at the far end and lift up. It will unclasp itself, and allow you to pull it free without transforming."

"That's it?"

She grinned, "That's it."

Heartened by the unexpected surprise, Jason forgot all protocol and threw his arms around his stepmother – it was the first good thing to happen all day.

"Thank you," he whispered, even more sincerely than he had before.

Hera, caught by surprise, froze...unsure what to do. Then against all odds, she gingerely embraced him back, and repeated, "You're welcome."

When they separated, Hera turned away, but not before he noticed the single tear rolling down her cheek. It occurred to Jason that this was perhaps the first time the goddess had ever been embraced in such a manner.

Hera stammered, "Well...it's get getting late and...you have a busy day tomorrow."

Jason grinned, "Right...I better tuck-in for the night."

The goddess moved behind the statue of Zeus and out of sight. Before she disappeared in a deadly flash of light, Hera added, "Good luck."

* * *

The morning air was cool, and the sky clear. Off in the east the sun was only just starting to banish the night's purples and blues – replacing them with red and pink hues. The coming day would be perfect for flying.

Flying...that's exactly what shouldn't be allowed to happen.

He darted upward, hiding himself amongst the last traces of dark night-clouds. Below him lay the place where his master should be. Why his master longed to return to a place of stone and dirt...he could not guess, but long for it he did.

Why he wondered? Why would anyone want to live anywhere other than the sky? The open air was freedom. The open air was life. Water and lightning abounded within the ever changing world of the winds, and time meant nothing. If one desired to never see the coming of darkness...all they need do was ride the westerly winds – when the sun rose in the east. To skip the day and find the night, the easterly winds would happily oblige. Great ice-storms lay at the end of the frigid northern gales, and turbulent thunderstorms grew along the warmer southern currents.

The south...his destination, if his master did not appear soon.

The great storm-horse whinnied, letting loose a discharge of lightning and a crack of thunder. "Why has Master not summoned me?" the dark and wispy steed moaned.

"Tempest..," whispered Jason, his conscious mind finally breaking through the fog of sleep.

Suddenly, his vision split. No longer was he seeing the clouds, the Earth, or the brightening horizon. Instead he was looking at himself looking at Tempest. Somehow, his mind and the storm-horse's had merged, and now that his mind was free and distinct, they were separating. The sensation was jarring. The only comparable experience Jason possessed occurred while visiting a House of Mirrors, where he stood between two of the reflective surfaces and peered down the infinite tunnel they created.

Then the moment past.

Jason, his mind his own once more, hovered several thousand feet above the veiled ground. Floating opposite of him was the stallion he tamed two months earlier. Tempest snorted, and small bright blue sparks leapt forth from the end of his nose. The amorphous storm-spirit seemed to take no notice of his incorporeal presence. All the same, Jason could still interpret the Ventus's troubled thoughts.

Far below them were three demigods, slumbering peacefully within the solid stone rectangular walls of the Academy,. The heroes chosen to embark upon a quest. A quest that the Earth-Mother knew would lead them southward – and into her trap. For unknown to any save the Venti, Gaea now commanded the winds. To fly, as the heroes would surely do, meant to glide across her wind-streams...straight into a deadly horde of the storm-horse's kin.

Jason had little time. As the electric-stallion so duly noted, the sun was steadily rising in the East. Soon, the cadets would awaken, and three of his friends would be taking to the skies and their potential deaths. The son of Jupiter angled downward and began racing toward the centrally located Praetorium. Lupa would be there, and he knew the she-wolf was capable of communicating with wayward minds, such as his. He could warn the Consul, if he hurried. An invisible force, like a chain, stopped the Praetor cold.

He glanced back.

One-hundred feet...that was as far as he had gotten. Not one to give up, Jason pulled against the invisible restraints binding him to Tempest. Yet try as he might, he could advance no further. Jason sighed. What was he going to do? He could go no further, and Tempest seemed unaware of the unseen tether.

He hated dream travel. Often it showed you confusing – dangerous – things, and rarely did it give you any power to affect what you saw. When you woke up, you would be filled with unease and often dread – none of which were useful emotions. Worst though were the dreams like he was currently experiencing. He had no control, it seemed, over anything. He couldn't even move, and the creature that could...had no clue he was even around.

"Stop complaining," he chastised. "Down below, there are soldiers that need your help. So figure out what you can do, and do it, already."

Above him, Tempest snorted again, before moving a few feet farther into the thin veil of clouds. Naturally, when the storm-horse moved, Jason was dragged along in his wake. Great, he thought. Now if only the stallion could pass through the Academy's protective barrier, Jason might – _might_ – be in business. But even if Tempest could get through, how was he suppose to coax the stallion into doing so? If only there...

A thought, as quick and bright as a lightning bolt, suddenly struck the son of Jupiter. He soared back up to the idle Ventus. What if he could reverse the connection – let Tempest hear his thoughts? Jason laid his ghostly hand upon the horse's muzzle.

"Tempest..." he implored, "Tempest, can you hear me? It's me Jason."

No words issued forth from the chaotic beast, but a jolt of recognition rattled along its spine. Tempest shivered and swished his tail.

Jason grinned. "Yeah, I'm here," he assured his wind-born mount, "sort of."

Tempest whinnied.

"It's hard to explain," Jason replied. "My minds here, but my body isn't."

The horse shook his mane.

"No you can't come get me," he answered. "I'm in another place...like the one below. You wouldn't be able to come through that barrier either."

Tempest dipped his head.

"Of course I would let you through," Jason admitted. "You're my horse after all, but by the time you came to get me...I would be gone."

He clomped an airy hoof.

"Well, yeah I'll be leaving on a pegasus," he responded. "We're leaving to go on a quest..."

Lightning erupted all around the storm-spirit.

"Ouch," blurted Jason, shaking his hand. Just because electricity wouldn't kill him, didn't mean such shocks wouldn't hurt. "Look it isn't personal..."

Tempest zapped him again.

"What do you mean I can't fly?"

The horse yanked its head to Jason's right.

"Venti..." he declared. "You mean there are a bunch of Venti circling Camp Half-Blood?"

Tempest nodded.

"In the name of...How many?"

He snorted.

"Half your birthing," commented Jason. "I guess that means the other half are the ones gathering south of here?"

The Ventus tilted its head.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Our minds were kind of joined for a little while."

Tempest's eyes grew wide.

"I don't know how," grumbled Jason. "And that's beside the point. Right now, we need to figure out what we can do about your siblings waiting to ambush my friends."

The stallion's chest rumbled.

"I know you're strong," conceded Jason, "but even you can't take on fifty Venti, alone."

Somewhere in the back of Jason's mind, he could hear a faint whoosh. It was a distinct sound, one belonging to the large bronze doors of Cabin One. He glanced off toward the increasingly bright horizon. The sun was probably already well up at Camp Half-Blood, and someone had most likely arrived to wake him. He needed to hurry.

Scrambling, Jason instructed, "Tempest, this is what I need you to do..."

* * *

This chapter was a joy to write, particularly the second half. It was pure bliss to get away from the multi-character settings that have filled the majority of my first few chapters. I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading. (Review if you like...they are always welcome)


	12. Hiatus

Hiatus

I have spent all week moving. So, there likely was not going to be an up date this week.

However, something else has occurred that is causing me to suspend any further writing for the time being. My Great-Grandmother has past away. Until such a time that I feel up to continuing with The Shadow of Erebus, I will not be posting, or even working on, any new chapters.

Thank you for reading, and may each of you be blessed.


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